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MADAME ROLAND 

A BIOGRAPHICAL STUDY 




MADAME ROLAND AT THE CONCIERGERIE. 
From a painting by Jules Goupil, now in the museum of Amboise. 



MADAME ROLAND 



A BIOGRAPHICAL STUDY 



BY 



IDA M. TARBELL 




NEW YORK ^***m**s**~ ,rj. 

CHARLES SGRIBNER'S SONS 




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COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY 
CHARLES SCRIKNKR'S SONS 



Xovtooat) J9rf«* 

Gushing & Co. — Berwick .V Smith 
Norwood .Muss. U.S.A. 



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To my dear Friend 
MADAME CECILE MARILLIER 



PREFACE 



QOME eight years ago I undertook a study of the 
^ women of the French Revolution, my object 
being merely to satisfy myself as to the value of 
their public services in that period. In the course 
of my studies I became particularly interested in 
Madame Roland, and when five years ago I found 
myself in Paris for an extended period, I decided 
to use my leisure in making a more careful investi- 
gation of her life and times than I had been able to 
do in America. The result of that study is con- 
densed in this volume. 

Much of the material used in preparing the book 
is new to the public. The chapter on Mademoi- 
selle Phlipon's relations with M. Roland and of their 
marriage has been written from unpublished letters, 
and presents a very different view of that affair 
from that which her biographers have hitherto given, 
and from that which she herself gives in her Memoirs. 
The story of her seeking a title with its privileges in 
Paris in 1784 has never before been told, the letters 
in which the details of her search are given never 
having been published. Those of her biographers 
who have had access to these letters have been too 

vii 



VIM PREFACE 



ardent republicans, or too passionate admirers of their 
heroine, to dwell on an episode of her career which 
seemed to them inconsistent with her later life. 

The manuscripts of the letters from which these 
chapters have been written are now in the Biblio- 
tJieque Nationale of Paris. They were given to the 
library in 1888. by Madame Faugere, the widow 
of M. P. Faugere. to whom they had been given by 
Madame Chanipagneux, only daughter of Madame 
Roland, that he might prepare a satisfactory edition 
of her mother's works, and write a life of her father. 
M. Faugere finished his edition of Madame Roland's 
writings, but he died before completing his life of 
M. Roland. 

Much of the material used in the book I have ob- 
tained from the descendants of Madame Roland, now 
living in Paris. My relations with them came about 
through that distinguished scholar and gentleman, 
the late James Darmesteter. Learning that I was 
interested in Madame Roland, he kindly sent me 
to her great-grandson M. Leon Marillier, a pro- 
fessor in the Eeole ties Hautes Etudes, of Pairs. 
M. Marillier and his wife were of the greatest service 
to me. called my attention to the manuscripts which 
Madame Faugere had turned over to the Bibliotheque, 
and which had just been catalogued, and gave me for 
examination a large quantity of letters and c aiders 
from Madame Roland's girlhood. There also I met 
their mother. Madame Cecil e Marillier. To her I 
owe a debt of gratitude for sympathy and help. 



PBEFACE IX 

which I can never repay. Madame Marillier gave 
me freely the family legends of her grandmother, 
and in May, 1892, I spent a fortnight at Le Clos, 
the family home of the Rolands, where Madame 
Roland passed her happiest, most natural years. 
The old place is rife with memories of its former 
mistress, and it was there and afterwards in Ville- 
franche that I found material for Chapters IV. 
and V. 

I cannot close this introductory word without 
acknowledging, too, my indebtedness to the librarians 
of the Bibliotlieque Nationale, of Paris. During three 
years I worked there almost daily, and I was treated 
with uniform courtesy and served willingly and 
intelligently. Indeed, I may say the same for all 
libraries and museums of Paris where I had occasion 
to seek information. 

I. M. T. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

The Girlhood of Manon Phlipon .... 1 



CHAPTER II 
Lovers and Marriage 31 

CHAPTER III 
Seeking a Title 73 

CHAPTER IV 
Country Life 87 

CHAPTER V 
How the Rolands welcomed the Revolution . 112 

CHAPTER VI 
First Political Salon 134 

CHAPTER VII 

A Stick in the Wheel . 155 

xi 



Xll CONTENTS 



chapter tut 

PAGE 

Working for a Second Revolution .... 168 



CHAPTER IX 
Disillusion ......... 210 

CHAPTER X 
Buzot and Madame Roland 226 

CHAPTER XI 
The Rolands turn against the Revolution . . 245 

CHAPTER XII 
In Prison 264 

CHAPTER Xm 

Death on the Guillotine 295 

CHAPTER XIY 
Those left behind 303 

Bibliography 313 

Index 321 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Madame Roland at the Conciergerie — From a painting by Jules 

Goupil, now in the museum of Amboise . . Frontispiece 

Madame Roland — From a cameo in the Muse'e Carnavalet . . Title 

FACING 
PAGE 

The Place Dauphine in the Eighteenth Century .... 8 

The Pont Neuf in 1895 40 

Roland de la Platiere— After the painting by Hesse ... 64 

Le Clos de la Platiere 96 

Madame Roland — From the painting by Heinsius in the museum 

of Versailles 128 

Madame Roland — After a crayon portrait owned by the family . 152 

Madame Roland — From a painting by an unknown artist in the 

Muse'e Carnavalet 192 

Engraving of Buzot by Nargeot — After the portrait worn by 

Madame Roland during her captivity 224 

Inscription written by Madame Roland on the back of the por- 
trait of Buzot which she carried while in prison . . . 240 

The prison, called the Abbaye, where Madame Roland passed the 

first twenty-four days of her imprisonment . . . 256 

The Conciergerie in 1 793— Prison where Madame Roland passed 
the last eight days of her captivity, and from which she went 
to the guillotine. Pont au Change in the foreground . . 288 

Roland de la Platiere — From a drawing by Gabriel . . . 304 



MADAME ROLAND 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 

QINCE the days when all of the city of Paris, save 
^ a few mills, fortresses, and donjon-towers, was to 
be found on the lie de la Cite*, the western end of 
that island has been the quarter of the gold and sil- 
ver smiths. Here, in the olden times, when this part 
of the island was laid out in gardens and paths, the 
sellers of ornaments and metal vessels arranged their 
wares on the ground or in rude booths ; later when 
peaked-roofed, latticed-faced buildings filled the space, 
these same venders opened their workshops in them ; 
later still, when good King Henry IV. rilled up this 
western end, built the Pont Neuf and put up the two 
fine facades of red brick and stone — mates for the 
arcades of the Place Roj^ale — the same class con- 
tinued here their trade. Even to-day, he who knows 
Paris thoroughly seeks the neighborhood of the Quai 
de l'Horloge and the Quai des Orfevres for fine 
silverware and jewels. 

Among the master engravers who in the latter part 
of the eighteenth century plied their trade in this 

l 



2 MADAME ROLAND 

quarter was one Pierre Gatien Phlipon. His shop 
was in one of the houses of King Henry's fagade — 
a house still standing almost intact, although the 
majority of them have been replaced or rebuilt so as 
to be unrecognizable — that facing the King's statue 
on the west and looking on the Quai de l'Horloge on 
the north. 

M. Phlipon's shop was in one of the best situa- 
tions in Paris. The Pont Xeuf, on which his house 
looked, was the real centre of the city. Here in 
those days loungers, gossips, recruiting agents, ven- 
ders of all sorts, saltimbanques, quacks, men of 
fashion, women of pleasure, the high, the low, tout 
Paris, in short, surged back and forth across the 
bridge. So fashionable a promenade had the place 
become that Mercier, the eighteenth-century gossip, 
declared that when one wanted to meet a person in 
Paris all that was necessary to do was to promenade 
an hour a day on the Pont Neuf. If he did not find 
him, he might be sure he was not in the city. 

Engraver by profession, M. Phlipon was also a 
painter and enameller. He employed several work- 
men in his shop and received many orders, but he 
had an itching for money-making which led him 
to sacrifice the artistic side of his profession to the 
commercial and to combine with his art a trade in 
jewelry and diamonds. We may suppose, in fact, 
that the reason M. Phlipon had removed his shop to 
the Pont Neuf, instead of remaining in the Rue de 
la Lanterne, now Rue de la Cite, near Notre Dame, 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 6 

where he lived until about 1755, was because he saw 
in the new location a better opportunity for carrying 
on trade. 

As his sacrifice of art to commerce shows, M. 
Phlipon was not a particularly high-minded man. 
He was, in fact, an excellent type of what the small 
bourgeoisie of Paris was, and is to-day, — good-natured 
and vain, thrifty and selfish, slightly common in his 
tastes, not always agreeable to live with when crossed 
in his wishes, but on the whole a respectable man, 
devoted to his family, with too great regard for what 
his neighbors would say of him to do anything fla- 
grantly vulgar, and too good a heart to be continually 
disagreeable. 

His vanity made him fond of display, but it kept 
him in good company. If he condescended to trade, 
he never condescended to traders, but carefully pre- 
served the relations with artists, painters, and sculp- 
tors which his rank as an engraver brought him. 
" He was not exactly a high-minded man," said his 
daughter once, " but he had much of what one calls 
honor. He would have willingly taken more for a 
thing than it was worth, but he would have killed 
himself rather than not to have paid the price of 
what he had bought." What M. Phlipon lacked 
in dignity of character and elevation of senti- 
ments, Madame- Phlipon supplied — a serene, high- 
minded woman, knowing no other life than that of 
her family, ambitious for nothing but duty. She is 
a perfect model for the gracious housewife in La mere 



MADAME BOLAND 



laborieuse and Le Benedicite of Chardin, and her face 
might well have served as the original for the exqui- 
site pastel of the Louvre, Chardin's wife. 

Madame Phlipon's marriage had been, as are the 
majority of her class, one of reason. If she had 
suffered from a lack of delicacy on the part of her 
husband, had never known deep happiness or real 
companionship, she had, at least, been loved by the 
rather ordinary man whom her superiority impressed, 
and her home had been pleasant and peaceful. 

The Phlipons led a typical bourgeois life. The 
little home in the second story of the house on the 
Quai de l'Horloge contained both shop and living 
apartments. As in Paris to-day the business and 
domestic life were closely dovetailed. Madame 
Phlipon minded the work and received customers 
when her husband was out, helped with the accounts, 
and usually had at her table one or more of the 
apprentices. Their busy every-day life was varied 
in the simple and charming fashion of which the 
French have the secret, leisurely promenades on 
Sunday, to Saint-Cloud, Meudon, Vincennes, an hour 
now and then in the Luxembourg or Tuileries gar- 
dens, an occasional evening at the theatre. As the 
families of both Monsieur and Madame Phlipon 
were of the Parisian bourgeoisie they had many 
relatives scattered about in the commercial parts of 
the city, and much animation and variety were added 
to their lives by the constant informal visiting they 
did among them. 



THE GIBLHOOB OF MAN ON PHLTPON 5 

The chief interest of the Phlipon household was 
centred in its one little girl — the only child of 
seven left — Marie-Jeanne, or Manon, as she was 
called for short. Little Manon had not been born 
in the house on the Quai de l'Horloge, but in 
the Rue de la Lanterne (March 18, 1754), and the 
first two years of her life had been spent with a 
nurse in the suburbs of Arpajon. She was already 
a happy, active, healthy, observant child when she 
was brought back to her father's home. The change 
from the quiet country house and garden, all of the 
world she had known, to the shifting panorama of 
the Seine and the Pont Neuf made a vivid impression 
upon her. The change, in fact, may be counted as the 
first step in her awakening. It quickened her power 
of observation and aroused in her a restless curiosity. 

Never having known her mother until now, she 
was almost at once taken captive by the sweet, grave 
woman who guarded her with tenderest care, yet 
demanded from her implicit obedience. Madame 
Phlipon obtained over the child a complete ascend- 
ency and kept it so long as she lived. The father, 
on the contrary, never was able to win from his 
little daughter the homage she gave her mother. 
Monsieur Phlipon was often impatient and arbitrary 
with Manon. The child was already sufficiently 
developed when she began to make his acquaintance 
to discriminate dimly. While she was pliable to 
reason and affection, she was obstinate before force 
and impatience. She recognized that somehow they 



6 M A7> A WE BOLASB 

were illogical and unjust and she would endure but 
never yield to them. Thus among Manon's first 
experiences was a species of hero-worship on one 
hand, of contempt for injustice on the other. 

An incessant activity was one of the little girl's 
natural qualities. This and her curiosity explain 
how she came to learn to read without anybody 
knowing exactly when. By the time she was four 
years old nothing but the promise of flowers tempted 
her away from her books, unless, indeed, it was 
stories ; and with these the artist friends of M. Phli- 
pon often entertained her, weaving extravagances 
by the hour, varying the pastime by repeating 
rhymes to her — an amusement which was even 
more entertaining to them since she repeated them 
like a parrot. 

Madame Phlipon was a sincere and ardent Cath- 
olic and she took advantage of the eager activity of 
little Manon to teach her the Old and New Testa- 
ment and the catechism. When the child was seven 
years old, she was sent to the class to be prepared 
for her first communion. Here she speedily distin- 
guished herself, carrying away the prizes, much to 
the glory of her uncle Bimont, a young cure* of the 
parish charged with directing the catechism. 

M. Phlipon and his wife, delighted with the child's 
precocity, gave her masters, — one to teach her to 
write and to give her history and geography, an- 
other for the piano, another for dancing, another 
for the guitar. M. Phlipon himself gave her draw- 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 7 

ing, and the Cure Bimont Latin. She attacked these 
duties eagerly, — getting up at five in the morning 
to copy her exercises and do her examples, — active 
because she could not help it. 

But her real education was not what she was 
getting in these conventional ways. It was what 
the books she read gave her. These were of the 
most haphazard sort: the Bible in old French, to 
which she was greatly attached, the Lives of the 
Saints, The Civil Wars of Appias, Scarron, the Me- 
moirs of Mademoiselle de Montpensier, a treatise on 
Heraldry, another on Contracts, many travels, dramas 
of all sorts, Telemaque, Jerusalem Delivered, even 
Candide. 

The child read with passionate absorption. At 
first it was simply for something to do, as she did 
her exercises or fingered her guitar ; but soon she 
began to feel strongly and she sought in her books 
food for the strange new emotions which stirred her 
heart, brought tears to her eyes, and awakened her 
to the mysteries of joy and sorrow long before she 
was able to call those emotions by name. 

In the motley collection of books read by Manon 
at this period one only made a life-long impression 
upon her, — it was Dacier's Plutarch. No one can 
understand the eighteenth century in France with- 
out taking into consideration the profound impress 
made upon it by PlutarcKs Lives. The work was the 
source of the dreams and of the ambitions of num- 
bers of the men who exercised the greatest influence 



8 MADAME BOLAND 

on the intellectual and political life of the period. 
Jean Jacques Rousseau declares that when he first 
read Plutarch, at about nine years of age, it cured 
him of his love of romance, and formed his free and 
republican character, and the impatience of servitude 
which tormented him throughout his life. Hundreds 
of others like Rousseau, many of them, no doubt, 
in imitation of him, trace their noblest qualities to 
the same source. 

When little Manon Phlipon first read the Lives, the 
stories of these noble deeds moved her almost to de- 
lirium. She carried her book to church all through 
one Lent in guise of a prayer-book and read through 
the service. When at night, alone in her room, she 
leaned from the window and looked upon the Pont 
Neuf and Seine, she wept that she had not been born 
in Athens or Sparta. She was beginning to apply to 
herself what she read, to feel that the noble actions 
which aroused such depths of feeling in her heart 
were not only glorious to hear of but to perform. 
She was filled with awe at the idea that she was her- 
self a creature capable of sublime deeds. A solemn 
sense of responsibility was awakened, and she felt that 
she must form her soul for a worthy future. When 
most children are busy with toys she was trembling 
before a mysterious possibility, — a life of great and 
good deeds, a possibility which she faintly felt was 
dependent upon her own efforts. 

Once penetrated by this splendid ideal, however 
vague it may have been, it was inevitable that the 




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THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 9 

rites of the Church, full of mysticism and exaltation, 
the teachings of devotion and self-abnegation, the 
pictures of lives spent in holy service, should appeal 
deeply to Manon's sensitive and untrained conscious- 
ness. As the time of her first communion approached, 
and cure and friends combined to impress upon the 
child the solemn and eternal importance of the act, 
she was more and more stirred by dread and exalta- 
tion. All her time was given to meditation, to prayer, 
to pious reading. Every day she fingered the Lives 
of the Saints, sighing after the times when the fury 
of the pagans bestowed the crown of martyrdom upon 
Christians. 

The necessary interruptions to her devotions 
which occurred in the household, disturbed her. 
At last she felt that she could not endure any 
longer the profane atmosphere; throwing herself at 
her parents' feet, she begged to be allowed to go 
to a convent to prepare for the sacrament. M. and 
Madame Phlipon, touched by the zeal of their 
daughter, consented to let her leave them for a 
year. 

It was not a difficult matter to find a convent 
suitable for a young girl of any class, in the Paris 
of the eighteenth century. That selected by the 
Phlipons for Manon stood in the Rue Neuve Ste. 
Etienne, a street now known as Rue Rollin and 
Rue Navarre. The convent, Dames de la Congre- 
gation de Notre Dame, established in 1645, was well 
known for the gratuitous instruction its sisters gave 



10 MADAME ROLAND 

the children of the very poor as well as for the sim- 
plicity and honesty with which the pension for young 
girls was conducted, a thing which could not be said 
of many of the convents of that day. 

The instruction given by the Dames de la Con- 
gregation was not, however, any better than that of 
other institutions of the kind, if the morals were. 
The amount of education regarded as necessary for 
a French girl of good family at this period was, in 
fact, very meagre ; even girls of the highest classes 
being allowed to grow to womanhood in astonishing 
ignorance. Madame du Deffand says that in the 
convent where she was placed nothing was taught 
except " reading and writing, a light, very light tint- 
ing of history, the four rules, some needle-work, 
many pater-nosters — that was all." Madame Louise, 
the sister of Louis XVI., did not know her alphabet 
at twelve, so says Madame Campan. Madame de 
Genlis taught her handsome sister-in-law, the fav- 
orite of the Duke of Orleans, to write after she was 
married. Madame de Genlis herself at twelve years 
of age had read almost nothing. 

Manon Phlipon's acquirements when she entered 
the convent, at a little over eleven years of age, were 
certainly much greater than those of these celebrated 
women at her age. It is probable that her instruc- 
tion was far above that not only of the girls of her 
age in the school, but of the most advanced pupils, 
perhaps even of some of the good sisters themselves. 

The superior training of the new pupil was soon 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 11 

known. The discovery caused her to be petted 
by all the sisterhood, and she was granted special 
privileges of study. She continued her piano les- 
sons and drawing, so that she had sufficient work 
to satisfy her active nature and to make the lei- 
sure given her sweet. This leisure she never 
passed with her companions. Her frame of mind 
was altogether too serious to permit her to romp 
like a child. The recreation hours she spent apart, 
in a quiet corner of the silent old garden, reading 
or dreaming, permeated by the beauty of the foliage, 
the sigh of the wind, the perfume of the flowers. 
All this she felt, in her exalted state, was an expres- 
sion of God, a proof of his goodness. With her 
heart big with gratitude and adoration, she would 
leave the garden to kneel in the dim church, and 
listen to the chanting of the choir and the roll of 
the organ. 

Sensitive, unpractical, fervent, the imposing and 
mystic services allured her imagination and moved 
her heart until she lost self-control and wept, she 
did not know why. 

During the first days at the convent, a novice took 
the veil, — one of the most touching ceremonies of 
the Church. The young girl appeared before the 
altar, dressed like a bride, and in a tone of joyous 
exaltation sang the wonderful strain, " Here I have 
chosen my dwelling-place, here I establish myself 
forever." Then her white garments were taken from 
her, and cruel shears cut her long hair, which fell in 



12 MADAME ROLAND 

masses to the floor ; she prostrated herself before the 
altar, and in sign of her eternal separation from the 
world a black cloth was spread over her. Even to 
the experienced and unbelieving the sight is pro- 
foundly affecting. Manon, sensitive and overstrung, 
was seized with the terrible, death-in-life meaning 
of the sacrifice; she fancied herself in the place of 
the young devouee and fell to the floor in violent 
convulsions. 

Under the influence of such emotions, intensified 
by long prayers, retreats, meditation, exhortations, 
from cure* and sisters, she took her first communion. 
So penetrated was she by the solemnity and the joy 
of the act that she was unable to walk alone to the 
altar. The report of her piety went abroad in the 
convent and in the parish, and many a good old 
woman whom she met afterwards, mindful of this 
extraordinary exaltation, asked her prayers. 

Fortunately for the child's development, this 
excessive mysticism, which was developing a mel- 
ancholy, sweet to begin with, but not unlikely to 
become unhealthy, was relieved a few months after 
she entered the convent by a friendship with a young 
girl from Amiens, Sophie Cannet by name. 

When Sophie first appeared at the Congregation, 
Manon had been deeply touched by her grief at part- 
ing from her mother. Here was a sensibility which 
approached her own. She soon saw, too, that the new 
pensionnaire avoided the noisy groups of the garden, 
that she loved solitude and re very. She sought her 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 13 

and almost at once there sprang up between the two 
a warm friendship. Sophie was three years older 
than Manon; she was more self-contained, colder, 
more reasonable. She loved to discuss as well as to 
meditate, to analyze as well as to read. She talked 
well, too, and Manon had not learned as yet the 
pretty French accomplishment of causerie, and she 
delighted to listen to her new friend. 

If the girls were different, they were companion- 
able. Their work, their study, their walks, were soon 
together. They opened their hearts to each other, 
confided their desires, and decided to travel together 
the path to perfection upon which each had resolved. 

To Manon Phlipon this new friendship was a 
revelation equal to the vision of nobility aroused by 
Plutarch; or to that of mystic purity found in the 
Church. So far in life she had had no opportunity 
for healthy expression. Her excessive sensibility, 
the emotions which frightened and stifled her, the 
aspirations which floated, indefinite and glorious, 
before her, all that she felt, had been suppressed. 
She could not tell her mother, her cure*, the good 
sisters. Even if they understood her, she felt vaguely 
that they would check her, calm her, try to turn her 
attention to her lessons, to the practice of good 
deeds, to pious exercises. She did not want this. 
She wanted to feel, to preserve this tormenting sensi- 
bility which was her terror and her joy. 

To Sophie she could tell everything. Sophie, too, 
was sensitive, devout, and understood joy and sorrow. 



14 MADAME ROLAND 

The two girls shared the most secret experiences of 
their souls. There grew up between them a form of 
Platonic love which is not uncommon between ideal- 
istic and sensitive young girls, a relation in which all 
that is most intimate, most profound, most sincere in 
the intellectual and spiritual lives of the two is ex- 
changed; under its influence the most obscure and 
indefinite impressions take form, the most subtile emo- 
tions materialize, and vague and indefinite thoughts 
shape themselves. 

The effect of this relation on the emotional nature 
of Manon was generally wholesome. Her affection 
for Sophie gave a new coloring to the pleasure she 
found in her work, and it dispelled the melancholy 
which hitherto had tinged her solitude. More im- 
portant, it compelled her to define her feelings so that 
her friend could understand them : to do this she was 
forced to study her own moods and gradually her 
intelligence came to be for something in all that 
she felt. 

When the year which Manon's parents had given 
her for the convent was up, she was obliged to leave 
her friend. For some time after the parting Sophie 
remained at the Congregation, so that they saw each 
other often; but, afterwards, it was by letters that 
their friendship was kept up. Never were more 
ardent love letters written than those of Manon to 
Sophie. She commiserated all the world who did 
not know the joys of friendship. She suffered tort- 
ures when Sophie's letters were delayed, and, like 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 15 

every lover since the beginning of the postal service, 
evolved plans for improving its promptness and its 
exactness. She read and re-read the letters which 
always filled her pockets, and she rose from her bed 
at midnight to fill pages with declarations of her 
fondness. This correspondence became one of the 
great joys of her life. All that she thought, felt, and 
saw, she put into her letters. The effort to express 
all of herself clearly compelled her to a greater degree 
of reflection and crystallized her notions wonderfully. 
Beside making her think, it awakened in her a pas- 
sion for the pen which never left her. Indeed, it 
became an imperative need for her to express in writ- 
ing whatever she thought or felt. Her emotions and 
ideas seemed to her incomplete if they had not been 
written out. In her early letters there is a full 
account of all the influences which were acting on 
her life, and of the transformation and evolution they 
produced. 

When Manon left the Congregation, it was with 
the determination to preserve not only her friend, 
but her piety. To do the latter, she had made up 
her mind to fit herself secretly to return to a convent 
life when she reached her majority. She had even 
chosen already the order which she should join, and 
had selected Saint Francois de Sales, "one of the 
most amiable saints of Paradise," as she rightly 
characterized him, as her patron. 

For the time being, however, not a little of the 
world was mixed with her preparations for religious 



16 MADAME ROLAND 

retirement. When she came back to the Quai de 
l'Horloge, — her first year out of the convent was 
spent on the He Saint Louis with her grandmother 
Phlipon, — her father and mother began gradually to 
initiate her into the round of life which presumably 
would be hers in the future. M. Phlipon took espe- 
cial pride in his fresh, bright-faced daughter. By 
his wish she was always dressed with elegance, and 
she attracted attention everywhere. The tender- 
ness with which he introduced her always touched 
Manon in spite of the fact that she was often em- 
barrassed by his too evident pride in her. The 
two went together to all the Salons and the expo- 
sitions of art objects, and M. Phlipon carefully 
directed her taste here where he was so thoroughly 
at home. It was the only real point of contact 
between them. 

Sundays and fete days were usually devoted to 
promenades by the Phlipons. The gayest paths, 
gardens, and boulevards were always chosen by M. 
Phlipon. He enjoyed the crowd and the mirth; 
and, above all, he enjoyed showing off his pretty 
daughter. But she, stern little moralist, when 
she discovered that her holiday toilette really gave 
her pleasure, that she actually felt flattered when 
people turned to look at her, that she found compli- 
ments sweet and admiring glances gratifying, trem- 
bled with apprehension. She might forgive her 
father's vanity, but she could not forgive such a 
feeling in herself. Was it to walk in gardens and to 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 17 

be admired that she had been born ? She gradually 
convinced herself that these promenades were incon- 
sistent with her ideal of what was "beautiful and 
wise and grand," and she urged her parents to the 
country, where all was in harmony with her thoughts 
and feelings. Meudon, still one of the loveliest of all 
the lovely forests in the environs of Paris, was her 
favorite spot. Its quiet, its naturalness, its variety, 
pleased her better than the movement and the arti- 
ficiality of such a place as Saint-Cloud. In the forest 
of Meudon her passion for nature was fully satisfied ; 
here she could study flower and tree, light and shade. 

In her love for nature Man on was in harmony 
with one of the curious phases of the sentimental 
life of the eighteenth century in France. Nature as 
food for sentiment seems to have never been discov- 
ered until then by the French people. One searches 
in vain in French literature before Bernardin de 
Saint-Pierre and Rousseau for anything which resem- 
bles a comprehension of and feeling for the exter- 
nal world — yet unaided Manon Phlipon became 
naturalist and pantheist. Never did Bernardin 
de Saint-Pierre and Rousseau, in their tramps 
in the environs of Paris, rejoice more profoundly 
over the beauties of the world, enter more deeply 
into its mysteries, than did she when in her girl- 
hood she wandered in the allies of the forest of Meu- 
don or of the Bois de Vincennes. 

But Manon was to see still another side of life, — 
people in their relations to one another and to her- 



18 MADAME BOLAXD 

self. Thus far she had been easily first in her little 
world. She had never known the time when she 
was not praised for her superiority. Whatever 
notions of equality she entertained it is certain that 
she had not yet discovered that Manon Phlipon was 
secondary to anybody else. 

It was on the visits which she began to make 
with her relatives, that she first discovered that in 
the world men are not graded according to their 
wisdom and their love for and practice of virtue. 
She went one day with her grandmother Phlipon 
to visit a rich and would-be-great lady, Madame de 
Boismorel, in whose house Madame Phlipon had, for 
many years after her husband's death, acted as a kind 
of governess. She was wounded on entering by a 
sentiment not purely democratic — the servants, who 
loved the old governess and wished to please her, 
crowded about the little girl and complimented her 
freely. She was offended. These people might, of 
course, look at her, but it was not their business to 
compliment her. Once in the grand salon she found 
a typical little old Frenchwoman, pretentious, vain, 
exacting. Her chiffons, her rouge, her false hair, her 
lofty manner with the beloved grandmamma Phlipon 
whom she addressed as Mademoiselle, — Mademoiselle 
to her grandmother, one of the great personages of 
her life so far, — her assumption of superiority, her 
frivolous talk, revolted this Spartan maid. She 
lowered her eyes and blushed before the cold cyni- 
cism of the old lady. When she was asked questions, 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MAN ON PHLIPON 19 

she replied with amusing sententiousness. "You 
must have a lucky hand, my little friend, have you 
ever tried it in a lottery ? " 

"Never, Madame, I do not believe in games of 
chance." 

" What a voice ! how sweet and full it is, but how 
grave ! Are you not a little devout? " 

" I know my duty and I try to do it." 

" Ah! You desire to become a nun, do you not? " 

"I am ignorant of my destiny, I do not seek to 
penetrate it." 

Little wonder that after that Madame de Bois- 
morel cautioned the grandmother, " Take care that 
she does not become a blue-stocking ; it would be a 
great pity." 

Manon went home from this visit full of disdain 
and anxiety. Evidently things were not as they 
ought to be when servants dared to compliment her 
to her face ; when her own noble ideas were greeted 
coldty, and when a vain and vulgar woman could 
patronize a sweet and bright little lady like her 
grandmother ; when her grandmother, too, would 
submit to the patronage — perhaps even court it. 

She was to observe still more closely the world's 
practices. An acquaintance of the family, one Made- 
moiselle d'Hannaches, was in difficulty over an inheri- 
tance and obliged to be in Paris to work up her case. 
Madame Phlipon took her into her house, where 
she stayed some eighteen months. Now Mademoi- 
selle d'Hannaches belonged to an ancient family, 



20 MADAME BOLAND 

and on account of her birth demanded extra con- 
sideration from those about her and treated her bour- 
geois friends with a certain condescension. Manon 
became a sort of secretary to her and often accompa- 
nied her when she went out on business. "I no- 
ticed," wrote Manon afterwards, " that in spite of 
her ignorance, her stiff manner, her incorrect lan- 
guage, her old-fashioned toilette, — all her absurdi- 
ties, — deference was paid her because of her family. 
The names of her ancestors, which she always enu- 
merated, were listened to gravely and were used 
to support her claim. I compared the reception 
given to her with that which Madame de Bois- 
morel had given to me and which had made a pro- 
found impression upon me. I knew that I was worth 
more than Mademoiselle d'Hannaches, whose forty 
years and whose genealogy had not given her the fac- 
ulty of writing a sensible or legible letter. I began 
to find the world very unjust and its institutions 
most extravagant." 

Mademoiselle Phlipon had scarcely become ac- 
customed to these vanities in the society which 
she frequented, before she began to observe equally 
puzzling and ridiculous pretensions in artistic and 
literary circles. Through the kindness of her mas- 
ters and of the friends of M. and Madame Phlipon, 
she was often invited to the reunions of bels esprits, 
so common in Paris then and now. It was not in a 
spirit of humiliation and flattered vanity that so in- 
dependent an observer and judge as she had become, 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 21 

surveyed the celebrities she was allowed to look upon 
and to listen to, in the various salons to which she 
was admitted. She saw immediately the pose which 
characterized nearly all of the gatherings, the pre- 
tentious vanity of those who read verses or por- 
traits, the insincerity and diplomacy of those who 
applauded. The blue-stockings who read as their 
own verses which they had not always written, and 
who were paid by ambitious salon leaders for sitting 
at their table ; the small poets who found inspiration 
in the muffs and snuff-boxes of the great ladies whose 
favor they wanted; the bold, and not always too 
chaste, compliments, — verily, if they made the 
gatherings delicieuses, as they who followed them de- 
clared, there was a deep gulf between Manon Phli- 
pon's standards and those of the society which her 
family congratulated her upon being able to see. 

It was during Mademoiselle d'Hannaches' stay with 
the Phlipons that Manon made a visit of eight days 
to Versailles, then the seat of the French Court, with 
her mother, her uncle, and their guest, to whose in- 
fluence indeed they owed their garret accommoda- 
tions in the chateau. Many things shocked and 
humiliated her in the life she saw there, but she 
did not go home nearly so bitter and disillu- 
sioned as she tried to represent herself to have 
been, nine years later, when she told the story to 
posterity as an evidence of her early revolt against 
the abuses of the monarchy. In fact, the reflections 
which the week at Versailles awakened were very 



22 MADAME BOLAND 

just and reasonable. We have them in a letter writ- 
ten to Sophie some clays after her return : 

"I cannot tell you how much what I saw there 
has made me value my own situation and bless 
Heaven that I was born in an obscure rank. You 
believe, perhaps, that this feeling is founded on the 
little value which I attach to opinion and on the 
reality of the penalties which I see to be connected 
with greatness? Not at all. It is founded on the 
knowledge that I have of my own character which 
would be most harmful to myself and to the state 
if I were placed at a certain distance from the 
throne. I should be profoundly shocked by the 
enormous chasm between millions of men and one 
individual of their own kind. In my present posi- 
tion I love my King because I feel my dependence 
so little. If I were near him, I should hate his 
grandeur. ... A good king seems to me an ador- 
able being; still, if before coming into the world I 
had had my choice of a government I should have 
decided on a republic. It is true I should have 
wanted one different from any in Europe to-day." 

Manon was twenty years old when she wrote this 
letter to Sophie Cannet. Its reasonable tone is very 
different from what one would expect from the pas- 
sionate little mystic of the convent of the Congrega- 
tion, the sententious critic of Madame de Boismorel. 
In fact, Manon's attitude towards the world had 
changed. By force of study and reflection she had 
come to understand human nature better, and to 



THE GIELHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 23 

accept with philosophical resignation the contradic- 
tions, the pettiness, and the injustice of society. 
" The longer I live, the more I study and observe," 
she told Sophie, "the more deeply I feel that we 
ought to be indulgent towards our fellows. It is a 
lesson which personal experience teaches us every 
day, — it seems to me that in proportion to the 
measure of light which penetrates our minds we 
are disposed to humaneness, to benevolence, to tol- 
erant kindness." 

Nor had she at this time any bitterness towards 
the existing order of government. If she "would 
have chosen a republic if she had been allowed a 
choice before coming into the world," she had so 
far no idea of rejecting the rule under which she 
was born. Indeed, she was a very loyal subject of 
Louis XVI. When that prince came to the throne 
she wrote to her friend : " The ministers are enlight- 
ened and well disposed, the young prince docile and 
eager for good, the Queen amiable and beneficent, 
the Court kind and respectable, the legislative body 
honorable, the people obedient, wishing only to love 
their master, the kingdom full of resources. Ah, 
but we are going to be happy ! " Nor did her ideas 
of equality at this period make her see in the 
mass of the common people equals of those who by 
training, education, and birth had been fitted to 
govern. " Truly human nature is not very respect- 
able when one considers it in a mass," she reflected 
one day, as she saw the people of Paris swarming 



24 MADAME BOLAXD 

even to the roofs to watch a poor wretch tortured on 
the wheel. In describing a bread riot in 1775, she 
condemned the people as impatient, called the meas- 
ures of the ministers wise, and excused the gov- 
ernment by recalling Sully's reflection : " With all 
our enlightenment and good-will it is still difficult 
to do well.*' And again, apropos of similar dis- 
turbances, she said : si The King talks like a father, 
but the people do not understand him; the people 
are hungry — it is the only thing which touches 
them." Nothing in all this of contempt of the mon- 
archy, of the sovereignty of the people, of the divine 
right of insurrection. 

Manon Phlipon had in fact become, by the time 
she was twenty years of age, a thoroughly intelligent 
and reflective young woman. Instead of extravagant 
and impulsive opinions, results of excessive emotion- 
alism and idealism, which her first twelve years 
seemed to prophesy, we have from her intelligent 
judgments. If it was not a question of some one she 
loved, she could be trusted to look at any subject 
in a rational and self-controlled way. 

This change had been brought about largely by 
the reading and reflecting she had done since leav- 
ing the convent. For some time what she read had 
depended on what she could get. Her resolution to 
enter a convent eventually had made her at first 
prefer religious books, and she read Saint Augustine 
and Saint Francois de Sales with fervor and joy. With 
them she combined, helter-skelter, volumes from the 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHL1P0N 25 

bouquinistes, mainly travels, letters, and mythology. 
Fortunately she happened on Madame de Sevigne. 
Manon appreciated thoroughly the charming style 
of this most agreeable French letter-writer, and her 
taste was influenced by it, though her style was but 
little changed. 

This stock was not exhausted before she had the 
happiness to be turned loose in the library of an abbe* 
— a friend of her uncle. It was a house where her 
mother and Mademoiselle d'Hannaches went often 
to make up a party of tric-trac with the two cures. 
As it was necessary always to take her along, all 
parties were satisfied that Manon could lose her- 
self in a book. For three years she found here all 
she could read: history, literature, mythology, the 
Fathers of the Church. Dozens of obscure authors 
passed through her hands; now and then she hap- 
pened on a classic — something from Voltaire, from 
Bossuet. Here too she read Don Quixote. 

But the good abbe died, the tric-trac parties in his 
library ceased, and Manon had to turn to the public 
library for books. She chose without any plan, gen- 
erally a book of which she had heard. So far her 
reading had been simply out of curiosity, from a 
need of doing something. Usually she had several 
books on hand at once — some serious, others light, 
one of which she was always reading aloud to her 
mother. The habit of reading, especially aloud, was 
one of the chief means advised by the French edu- 
cators of the time for carrying on a girl's education. 



26 MAT} A WE ROLAND 

Madame de Sevigne, Fe'nelon, Madame de Mainte- 
non, L'abbe de Saint-Pierre, the authorities at Port 
Royal, all had made much of the practice. Manon 
read their treatises, and finding that she had herself 
already adopted methods similar to those of the 
wisest men and women of her country, continued her 
work with new vigor. 

All that she read she analyzed carefully, and she 
spent much time in making extracts. Through the 
courtesy of one of the descendants of Mademoiselle 
Phlipon, M. Leon Marillier of Paris, I had in my 
possession at one time, for examination, a large 
number of her calners prepared at this period. They 
are made of a coarse, grayish-blue paper, with rough 
edges, and are covered with a strong, graceful hand- 
writing, almost never marred by erasures or changes, 
much of it looking as if it had been engraved ; more 
characteristic and artistic manuscript one rarely sees. 

The subjects of the quotations in the cahiers are 
nearly always deeply serious. In one there are eight 
pages on Necessity, long quotations on Death. Sui- 
cide, the Good Man, Happiness, the Idea of God. 
Another contains a long analysis of a work on 
Divorce Legislation, which had pleased her. Buffon 
and Voltaire are freely quoted from. 

The passages which attracted her are philosophic 
and dogmatic rather than literary and sentimental, 
or devout. In fact, Manon became, in the period 
between fourteen and twenty-one, deeply interested 
in the philosophic thought of the day. Soon she 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 27 

was examining dispassionately, and with a freedom 
of mind remarkable in so unquestioning a believer 
as she had been, the entire system of religion which 
she had been taught. Once started on this track, her 
reading took a more systematic and intelligent turn. 
She read for a purpose, not simply out of curiosity. 

It was the controversial works of Bossuet which 
first induced Manon Phlipon to apply the test of 
reason to her faith. Soon after she began to study 
the Christian dogma rationally, she revolted against 
the doctrines of infallibility and of the universal dam- 
nation of all those who never knew or who had not 
accepted the faith. When she discovered that she 
could not accept these teachings, she resolved to find 
out if there was anything else which she must give up, 
and so attacked eagerly religious criticism, philosophy, 
metaphysics. She analyzed most thoroughly all she 
read and compared authorities with unusual intelli- 
gence. 

As her investigations went on, she found that her 
faith was going, and she told her confessor, who 
immediately furnished her with the apologists and 
defenders of the Church, Abbe* Gauchat, Bergier, 
Abbadie, Holland,' Clark, and others. She read 
them conscientiously and annotated them all; some 
of these notes she left in the books, not unwittingly 
we may suspect. The Abbe asked her in amazement 
if the comments were original with her. 

These annotations were, in fact, calculated to 
startle a cure interested in conserving the orthodoxy 



28 MAQAME ROLAND 

of a parishioner. Part of those she made on the 
works of the Abbe* Gauchat fell into my hands with 
the extracts spoken of above. They are the bold, 
intelligent criticisms of a person who has resolved 
to subject every dogma to the test of reason. They 
are never contemptuous or scoffing, though there 
is frequently a tone of irritation at what she regards 
as the feebleness of the logic. They are free from 
prejudice and from sentiment, and show no deference 
to authority. 

Another result of the cure's loan of controversial 
works was to intimate to Manon what books they 
refuted, and she hastened to procure them one after 
another. Thus the Traite de la tolerance, Diction- 
naire philosophique, the Questions encyclopediques, the 
Bons sens and the Lettres juives, of the Marquis 
d'Argens, the works of Diderot, d'Alembert, Ray- 
nal, in fact all the literature of the encyclopedists 
passed through her hands. 

Manon Phlipon did not change her religious feel- 
ings or devout practices during this period. She was 
living a religious life of peculiar intensity, all the 
time that she was deep in the examination of doc- 
trines. The one was for her an affair of the heart, the 
other of the head. Her letters to Sophie, after the 
question of doubt had once been broached between 
them, are filled, now with philosophical analyses of 
dogma, now with glowing piety, now with severe 
rules of conduct. It was some time after she took 
to reasoning before the subject came up. Sophie's 



THE GIRLHOOD OF MANON PHLIPON 29 

own faith was troubled and she pictured her state 
to her friend. Manon, touched by this confidence, 
greater than her own had been, freely portrayed 
afterwards her own mental and spiritual condi- 
tion. From these letters we find that she reached, 
very early in her study, certain conclusions which 
she never abandoned, and upon these as a basis 
erected a system which satisfied her heart and mind 
and which regulated her conduct. 

When she first wrote Sophie she was so convinced 
of the existence of God for " philosophical reasons " 
that she declared the authority of the world could 
not upset her." With this went the immortality of 
the soul. These two dogmas were enough to satisfy 
her heart and imagination. She did not need them 
to be upright, she said, but she did to be happy. 
She did right because she had convinced herself 
that it was to her own and to her neighbor's interest. 
She was happy because she had a reasonable basis for 
goodness and nobility, and because she believed in 
God and in immortality. On this foundation further 
study became an inspiration. " My sentiments have 
gained an energy, a warmth, a range," she wrote to 
Sophie after reading Raynal's Philosophical History, 
"that the exhortations of priests have never given 
them — the General Good is my idol, because it must 
be the result and the reasonable end of everything. 
Virtue pleases me, inflames my imagination because it 
is good for me, useful to others, and beautiful in itself. 
I cherish life because I feel the value of it. I use it 



30 MAT) AMU EOLAXD 

to the best advantage possible. I love all that 

O J- 

breathes, I hate nothing but evil, and still I pity the 

guilty. With a conduct conformed to these ideas. I 
live happy and tranquil, and I shall finish my career in 
peace and with the greatest confidence in a God whom 
I dare believe to be better than I have been tangl 

She had her fundamentals, but she had not by any 
means finished her investigations. Each system she 
examined, fascinated her. In turn she was Jansenist, 
stoic, deist, materialist, idealist. 

" The same thing happens to me sometimes," she 
wrote Sophie, " that happened to the prince who 
went to the Court to hear the pleas, — the last lawyer 
who spoke always seemed to him to be right." " I am 
continually in doubt, and I sleep there peacefully as 
the Americans in their hammocks. This state is 
suited to our situation and to the little we know." 

Whatever her mental vagaries, she never altered her 
religious practices. She did not wish to torment her 
mother, or to set a bad example to those who took 
her as a model; for instance, there was her bonne 
whom she desired should keep her faith. ;, I should 
blame myself for weakening it," she said, u as I 
should for taking away her bread." 

Only two months before the end of her life Madame 
Roland summed up her religious and philosophical 
life in a passage of her Memoirs. It is simply a 
resume of what in her girlhood she wrote at differ- 
ent times to Sophie. The main points of this philos- 
ophy have been given above. 



II 

LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 

TTNTIL she was twenty-one years of age, Manon 
^ Phlipon's life was singularly free from care. 
Her studies, her letters to Sophie, her hours with her 
mother, her promenades, filled it fall. Suddenly in 
1775 its peace was broken by the death of Madame 
Phlipon. Manon's veneration and affection for her 
mother were sincere and passionate, her dependence 
upon her complete. Her death left the girl groping 
pitifully. The support and the joy of her life seemed 
to have been taken from her. But the necessity of 
action, her obligations to her father, the kindness of 
her friends, her own philosophy, finally calmed her, 
and she made a brave effort to adjust herself to her 
new duties. Her real restoration, however, — that 
is, her return to happiness and to enthusiasm, was 
wrought by a book — the Nouvelle Heloise, of Jean 
Jacques Rousseau. 

In the middle and in the latter half of the eigh- 
teenth century France passed through a paroxysm 
of sentiment. Man was acknowledged a reasoning 
being, to be sure, but it was because he was a sensi- 

31 



32 MADAME ROLAND 

tive one that he was extolled. His mission was to 
escape pain and seek happiness. To laugh, to weep, 
to vibrate with feeling, was the ideal of happiness. 
This sensitiveness to sentiment was shown in the 
most extravagant ways. Words ran out in the 
efforts to paint emotion. Friends no longer salut- 
ed, they fell into each other's arms. Tears were 
no longer sufficient for grief, they were needed for 
joy. Convulsions and spasms alone expressed sor- 
row adequately. At the least provocation women 
were in a faint and men trembling. Acute sensi- 
bility was cultivated as an Anglo-Saxon cultivates 
reserve. 

The prophet of this sentimental generation was 
Jean Jacques Rousseau, the hand-book he gave his 
followers the Nouvelle Heloise. Here sentimentalism 
reaches the highest point possible without becoming 
unadulterated mawkishness and sensuality, if, indeed, 
it does not sometimes pass the limit. To France, 
however, the book was a revelation. Rousseau de- 
clares that Frenchwomen particularly were intoxi- 
cated by it, and that there were few ladies of rank 
of whom he could not have made the conquest if 
he had undertaken it. It is only necessary to read 
the memoirs of the day, to see that Rousseau tells 
the truth. The story that George Sand tells of her 
grandmother, and those Madame de Genlis relates of 
the reception of the book by the great ladies of the 
Palais Royal, are but examples of the general outburst 
of admiration which swept through feminine hearts. 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 33 

The Nouvelle Heloise was a revelation in sentiment 
to Manon Phlipon. The severe studies of the past 
few years had checked and regulated the excessive 
and uncontrolled emotions of her girlhood. She had 
become an intelligent, reflecting creature. But the 
death of her mother had overthrown her philosophy 
for the moment; then came the Nouvelle Heloise. 
Its effect on her was like that of Plutarch twelve 
years before. It kindled her imagination to the 
raptures of love, the beauty of filial affection, the 
peace of domestic life, the joy of motherhood. 

Her vigorous, passionate young nature asserted 
itself; her mind burned with the possibilities of 
happiness; sentiment regained the power tempora- 
rily given to the intellect, and from that time was 
the ruling force of her life. 

" I fear that he strengthened my weakness," Manon 
wrote of Rousseau towards the end of her life, and 
certainly he did destroy the fine harmony that she 
had established between her reason and her feelings, 
making the latter master. She was quite right in 
thinking it fortunate that she had not read him 
earlier. " He would have driven me mad ; I should 
have been willing to read nobody but him." 

The Nouvelle He'loise was not, however, the first of 
Rousseau she had read. Emile had passed through 
her hands, and her religious convictions had unques- 
tionably been influenced by the Profession of Faith 
of the Vicar of Savoy. But she had read him criti- 
cally so far. Now all was changed. She plunged 



34 MADAME BOLAXD 

enthusiastically into his works. She found there 
clearly and fully stated what she herself had vaguely 
and imperfectly felt; the sentiments he interpreted 
had stirred her; many of the principles he laid 
down for conduct she had been practising. In 
less than a year she was defending his works to 
Sophie. 

" I am astonished that you wonder at my love for 
Rousseau. I regard him as the friend of humanity, 
as its benefactor and mine. Who pictures virtue in 
a nobler and more touching manner ? Who renders 
it more worthy of love ? His works inspire a taste 
for truth, simplicity, wisdom. As for myself, I 
know well that I owe to them all that is best in me. 
His genius has warmed my soul, I have been in- 
flamed, elevated, and ennobled by it. 

"I do not deny that there are some paradoxes in 
fflnile, some proceedings that our customs make 
impracticable. But how many profound and whole- 
some opinions, how many useful precepts ! how many 
beauties to save the faults ! Moreover, I confess that 
observation has led me to approve things that at first 
I treated as foolish and chimerical. His Heloise is 
a masterpiece of sentiment. The woman who can 
read it without being better or at least without 
desiring to become so, has only a soul of clay, a 
mind of apathy. She will never rise above the 
common. ... In all that he has done one recog- 
nizes not only a genius, but an honest man and 
citizen. . . . And a scaffold has come near being 



LOVERS AND MABBIAGE 35 

erected for this man, to whom, in another century, 
one will perhaps raise altars ! " 

Manon Phlipon had found in Rousseau her guide. 
The feminine need of an authority was satisfied. She 
accepted him en bloc, and to defend and follow him 
became henceforth her concern. 

Manon's first appreciation of Rousseau was, natu- 
rally enough, an attempt to play Julie to a fancied 
Saint-Preux. It is not to be supposed that this is 
the first time in her life that her attention was 
turned towards a lover. Ever since her piety began 
to cool under the combined effects of study and 
observation, and her natural vanity and love of at- 
tention began to assert themselves, she had thought 
a great deal of her future husband. In a French 
girl's life a future husband is a foregone conclusion, 
and Manon, like all her countrywomen, had been 
accustomed to the presentation of this or that per- 
son whom some zealous friend thought a fitting 
mate for her. The procession of suitors that passes 
before the readers of her Memoirs is so long and so 
motley that one is inclined to believe that more than 
one is there by virtue of the heroine's imagination. 
Manon Phlipon was one of those women who see 
in every man a possible lover. 

The applications for her hand began with her 
guitar master, who, having taught her all he knew, 
ended by asking her to marry him. Then there was 
a widower who had prepared himself for his court- 
ship by having a wen removed from his left cheek ; 



36 MADAME BOLASB 

the family butcher, who sought to win her regard by 
sending her the choicest cuts of steak, and appearing 
on Sunday ia the midst of the Phlipons' family 
promenade, arrayed in lace and fine broadcloth; and 
in turn all the eligible young men and widowers of 
the Place Dauphine. They were, without exception, 
peremptorily declined by the young woman through 
her father. Had she read Plutarch and all the 
philosophers, only to tie herself up to a merchant 
bent on getting rich and cutting a good figure in 
his quarter? 

Her parents, flattered and amused by this cortege, 
did not at first try to influence Manon to accept any 
one. but at last her father became anxious. The 
disdain with which she refused all representatives of 
commerce annoyed him a little, too. "What kind 
of a man will suit you ? " he asked her one day. 

"You have taught me to reflect, and allowed me 
to form studious habits. I don't know to what kind 
of a man I shall give myself, but it will never be 
to any one with whom I cannot share my thoughts 
and sentiments." 

•• But there are men in business who are polished 
and well educated. "' 

" Yes. but not among those I see. Their politeness 
consists in a few phrases and salutations. Their 
knowledge is always of business. They would 
be of little use to me in the education of my 
children." 

" Raise them yourself.'' 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 37 

"That task would seem heavy to me if it were 
not shared by my husband." 

" Don't you think L \s wife is happy ? They 

have just gone out of business; they have bought 
a large property ; their house is well kept ; and they 
see a great deal of good society." 

"I cannot judge of the happiness of others, and 
mine will never depend upon wealth. I believe that 
there is no happiness in marriage except when hearts 
are closely united. I can never give myself to one 
who has not the same sentiments as I. Besides, my 
husband must be stronger than I; nature and the 
laws make him my superior, and I should be ashamed 
of him if he were not so." 

" Is it a lawyer that you want ? Women are never 
too happy with such men ; they are bad tempered 
and have very little money." 

" But, papa, I shall never marry anybody for his 
gown. I don't mean to say that I want a man of 
such and such a profession, but a man that I can 
love." 

" But, if I understand you, such a man cannot be 
found in business ? " 

" Ah ! I confess that seems to me very probable ; 
I have never found any one there to my taste ; and 
then business itself disgusts me." 

" Nevertheless, it is a very pleasant thing to live 
tranquilly at home while one's husband carries on a 

good business. Look at Madame A ; she knows 

good diamonds as well as her husband; she carries 



38 MADAME ROLAND 

on the business in his absence; she will continue 
to carry it on if she should become a widow ; their 
fortune is already large. You are intelligent ; you 
would inspire confidence ; you could do what you 
wanted to. You would have a very agreeable life if 
you would accept Delorme, Dabreuil, or Obligeois." 

" Hold on, papa ; I have learned too well that in 
business one does not succeed unless he sells dear 
what he has bought cheap ; unless he lies and beats 
down his workmen." 

"Do you believe, then, that there are no honest 
men in commerce ? " 

" I am not willing to say that; but I am persuaded 
that there are but few of them ; and more than that, 
that those honest men have not the qualities that 
my husband must have." 

" You are making matters very difficult for youi> 
self. What if you do not find your ideal ? " 

" I shall die an old maid." 

"Perhaps that will be harder than you think. How- 
ever, you have time to think of it. But remember, 
one day you will be alone ; the crowd of suitors will 
end, — but you know the fable." 

" Oh, I shall revenge myself by meriting happiness ; 
injustice cannot deprive me of it." 

" Ah, there you go in the clouds." 

The first of Manon's suitors who really interested 
her was Pahin de la Blancherie, a lei esprit who fre- 
quented a salon where she was often seen. He had 
been attracted by the girl and had by a clever trick, 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 39 

which Madame Phlipon had seen fit to ignore, gained 
an entrance to the house. He interested Manon 
more than her usual callers. He had read the philos- 
ophers ; he expressed noble views; he had been to 
America; he was writing a book. This was much 
better than the young man who plied a trade and 
repeated the gossip of the Pont Neuf, and when she 
learned from her father that he had asked her hand, 
but had been dismissed because of his lack of fortune, 
she told the loss rather coldly to Sophie. 

" He seemed to me to have an honest heart, much 
love for literature and science, art and knowledge. 
In fact, if he had a secure position, was older, had 
a cooler head, a little more solidity, he would not 
have displeased me. Now he has gone and with- 
out doubt thinks as little of me as I do about 
him." 

This was nearly two years before Madame Phlipon's 
death and Manon saw almost nothing of La Blan- 
cherie until some four months after her loss, when he 
came unexpectedly one evening to see her, pale and 
changed by a long illness. The sight of the young 
man agitated her violently. It recalled her mother, 
recalled, too, the fact that he alone of all her suitors 
had seemed worthy of her. Her agitation embar- 
rassed him. With tears she told him her grief. He 
tried to console her and confided to her the proof- 
sheets of his forthcoming book. 

Manon described the meeting to Sophie and added 
her appreciation of the book. " You know my 



40 MADAME BOLAND 

Loisirs, 1 do you not ? Here are the same principles. 
It is my whole soul. He is not a Rousseau, doubtless, 
but he is never tiresome. It is a beautiful morality, 
agreeably presented, supported by facts and an infi- 
nite number of historic allusions and of quotations 
from many authors. I dare not judge the young 
man because we are too much alike, but I can say 
of him what I said to Greuze of his picture, 'if 
I did not love virtue, he would give me a taste 
for it.' " 

Manon's imagination was violently excited by this 
interview and she received La Blancherie's visits 
with delight. Her father, however, was displeased 
and insisted that the young man cease coming to the 
house. This was all that was needed for Man on to 
persuade herself that she was in love. She went 
farther — she was convinced La Blancherie loved 
her, was suffering over their separation, and she shed 
tears of sympathy for him. She comforted herself 
with dreams of his noble efforts to better his situa- 
tion and to win her in spite of her cruel father. 
She wrote Sophie long letters describing their mut- 

1 Manon Phlipon wrote before her marriage a series of philo- 
sophical and literary essays which she called CEuvres de loisir or 
Mes Loisirs. They are reflections on a great variety of subjects, 
generally following closely the books she read. Fragments from 
many of these essays are found in the letters to Sophie Cannet. 
It was Mademoiselle Phlipon's habit to lend the manuscript of her 
productions to her intimate friends and Sophie, of course, was 
familiar with them all. The greatest part of the Loisirs were 
published in 1800 in the edition of Madame Roland's works pre- 
pared by Champagneux. 




a 



u- £ 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 41 

ual efforts to be worthy of each other, letters drawn 
entirely from her own fancy. 

" We are trying to make each other happy by 
making ourselves better, and in this sweet emulation 
virtue becomes stronger, hope remains. If he has 
an opportunity to do a good action, I am sure that 
he will do it more gladly when he thinks that it is 
the sweetest and the only homage that he can render 
me." All this she assumed, but she thought she had 
sufficient reason for her opinion. " I judge him by 
my own heart, nothing else is so like him. We do 
not see each other, but we know we love each other 
without ever having avowed it. We count on each 
other. We hasten along the path of virtue and of 
sacrifice that we have chosen ; there at least we 
shall be eternally together." 

She wrote him a fervent letter, which Sophie de- 
livered, telling him that it was not her will that he 
was forbidden the house. She saw that he had a 
card for the Mass celebrating her mother's death. 
She idealized him in a manner worthy of Julie her- 
self, without knowing anything in particular of him, 
and without his ever having made her any declara- 
tion. 

A sentimental young woman rarely conceives her 
lover as he is. Certainly the actual La Blancherie 
was a very different young man from the paragon of 
stern virtue Mademoiselle Phlipon pictured, and 
when the creation of her imagination was brought 
face to face, one day in the Luxembourg, with the 



42 MADAME ROLAND 

flesh and blood original, the latter made a poor show- 
ing. To begin with, he had a feather in his cap, a 
common enough thing in that day — " Ah, you would 
not believe how this cursed plume has tormented 
me," she wrote Sophie. "I have tried in every way 
to reconcile this frivolous ornament with that philos- 
ophy, with that taste for the simple, with that man- 
ner of thinking which made D. L. B. [it is thus that 
she designates La Blancherie in her letters] so dear 
to me." But she did not succeed. No doubt her in- 
ability to forgive the feather was made greater by 
a bit of gossip repeated to her the same day by a 
friend who was walking with her, that La Blancherie 
had been forbidden the house of one of her friends 
because he had boasted that he was going to marry 
one of the daughters, and that he was commonly 
known among their friends as "the lover of the 
eleven thousand virgins." 

Her cure was rapid after this, and when, a few 
months later, La Blancherie succeeded in getting 
an interview with her and represented his misfort- 
unes and his hopes, she listened calmly, and told 
him, at length, that after having distinguished him 
from the ordinary young man, and indeed placed 
him far higher, she had been obliged to replace him 
among the large class of average mortals. For some 
four hours they debated the situation, and at last La 
Blancherie withdrew. 

Manon's first love affair was over, and she sat 
down with rare complacency to describe the finale 



LOVERS AND MAURIAGE 43 

to Sophie. She had no self-reproach in the affair. 
As always, she was infallible. 

La Blancherie was, no doubt, an excellent exam- 
ple of the eighteenth-century literary adventurer. 
His first book, a souvenir of college life and his 
travels in America, was an impossible account of 
youthful follies and their distressing results, and 
seems never to have aroused anybody's interest save 
Manon's, and that only during one year. His next 
venture was to announce himself as the General 
Agent for Scientific and Artistic Correspondence, 
and to open a salon in Paris, where he arranged 
expositions of pictures, scientific conferences, lect- 
ures and art soirees. In connection with his salon 
La Blancherie published from 1779 to 1787 the Nou- 
velles de la republique des lettres et des arts, and a cata- 
logue of French artists from Cousin to 1783. Both 
of these works, now extremely rare, are useful in 
detailed study of the French art of the eighteenth 
century, and were used by the De Goncourts in 
preparing their work on this subject. 

In 1788 La Blancherie's salon was closed, and he 
went to London. By chance he inhabited Newton's 
old house. He was inspired to exalt the name of the 
scientist. His practical plan for accomplishing this 
was to demand that the name of Newton should be 
given alternately with that of George to the Princes 
of England, that all great scientific discoveries 
should be celebrated in hymns which should be 
sung at divine services, and that in public docu- 



44 MADAME BOLAND 

ments after the words the year of grace should be 
added and of Newton. 

In short, La Blancherie was in his literary life 
vain and pretentious, without other aim than to 
make a sensation. In his social relations he was 
a perfect type of le petit maitre, whose philosophy 
Marivaux sums up : " A Paris, ma ch£re enfant, les 
coeurs on ne se les donne pas, on se les prete " (In 
Paris, my dear, we never give our hearts, we only 
lend them). Manon Phlipon's idealization and sub- 
sequent dismissal of La Blancherie is an excellent 
example of how a sentimental girl's imagination will 
carry her to the brink of folly, and of the cold-blooded 
manner in which, if she is disillusioned, she will dis- 
cuss what she has done when under the influence of 
her infatuation. 

No doubt the decline of Manon's interest in La 
Blancherie was due no little to the rise of her in- 
terest at this time in another type of man, — the 
middle-aged man of experience and culture whom 
necessity has forced to work in the world, but whom 
reflection and character have led to remain always 
aloof from it. 

The first of these was a M. de Sainte-Lettre, a man 
sixty years of age, who, after thirteen years' gov- 
ernment service in Louisiana with the savages, had 
been given a place in Pondicherry. He was in Paris 
for a year, and having brought a letter of introduc- 
tion to M. Phlipon, soon became a constant visitor 
of his daughter. His wealth of observation and 



LOVEES AND MARRIAGE 45 

experience was fully drawn upon by this curious 
young philosopher, and probably M. de Sainte-Lettre 
found a certain piquancy in relating his traveller's 
tales to a fresh and beautiful young girl whose in- 
telligence was only surpassed by her sentimentality, 
and whose frankness was as great as her self-com- 
placency. At all events they passed some happy 
hours together. "I see him three or four times a 
week," she wrote Sophie ; " when he dines at the 
house, he remains from noon until nine o'clock. 
There is perfect freedom between us. This man, 
taciturn in society, is confiding and gay with me. 
We talk on all sorts of subjects. When I am not 
up, I question him, I listen, I reflect, I object. 
When we do not wish to talk, we keep silent 
without troubling ourselves, but that does not last 
long. Sometimes we read a fragment suggested by 
our conversation, something well known and classic, 
whose beauties we love to review. The last was a 
song of the poet Rousseau and some verses of Vol- 
taire. They awakened a veritable enthusiasm, — we 
both wept and re-read the same thing ten times." 

To this odd pair of philosophers a third was 
added, — a M. Roland de la Platiere, of whom we 
are to hear much more later on. Manon began at 
once to effervesce. " These two men spoil me," she 
declared to Sophie ; " I find in them the qualities 
that I consider most worthy my esteem." 

But Roland and de Sainte-Lettre both left Paris, 
the latter retiring to Pondicherry, where he died 



46 MADAME ROLAND 

some six weeks after his arrival. Before going 
away, however, he had put Mademoiselle Phlipon 
into relation with an intimate friend of his, a M. de 
SeVelinges, of Soissons, a widower some fifty-two 
years of age, of small fortune but excellent family 
and wide culture. This acquaintance was kept up by 
letter, and in a few months M. de Sevelinges asked 
her hand. Now Mademoiselle Phlipon had but a 
small dot and that was fast disappearing through 
the dissipation of her father, who, since her mother's 
death, had taken to amusing himself in expensive 
ways. M. de Sevelinges had children who did not 
like the idea of his marrying a young wife without 
fortune. It was to imperil their expected inheri- 
tance. Manon appreciated this and refused M. de 
Sevelinges. But he insisted and they hit upon a 
quixotic arrangement which Mademoiselle Phlipon 
describes thus to Sophie: 

" His project is simply to secure a sister and a 
friend, under a perfectly proper title. I thank him 
for a plan that my reason justifies, that I find hon- 
orable for both, and that I feel myself capable of 
carrying out. . . . My sentiments, my situation, 
everything drives me to celibacy. In keeping it 
voluntarily while apparently living in an opposite 
state, I do not change the destiny which circum- 
stances have forced upon me, and at least I con- 
tribute by a close relation to the happiness of an 
estimable man who is dear to me. . . . How chi- 
merical this idea would be for three-fourths of my 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 47 

kind! It seems as if nobody but M. de SeVelinges 
and I could have conceived it, and that you are the 
only one to whom I could confide it. The realisa- 
tion of this dream would be delightful it seems to 
me. I can imagine nothing more flattering and 
more agreeable to one's delicacy and confidence than 
this perfect devotion to pure friendship. Can you 
conceive of a more delicate joy than that of sacri- 
ficing oneself entirely to the happiness of an appre- 
ciative man ? " 

The affair with M. de SeVelinges came to nothing, 
and as Manon gradually ceased to think of him she 
became more and more interested in the M. Roland 
already mentioned. 

M. Roland de la PlatiSre was a man about forty- 
two years of age when he first met Mademoiselle 
Phlipon, in 1776. He held the important position 
of Inspector-General of Commerce in Picardy, and 
lived in Amiens, the chief town of the province. In 
his specialty he was one of the best known men in 
France. His career had been one of energy and 
patience. Leaving his home in the Lyonnais when 
but a boy of eighteen, rather than to take orders 
or to go into business as his family proposed, he had 
spent two years studying manufacture and commerce 
in Lyons, and then had gone to Rouen, where, through 
the influence of a relative, he had passed ten years in 
familiarizing himself with the methods of the fac- 
tories of Normandy, at that time one of the busiest 
manufacturing provinces in France. M. Roland's 



48 MADAME ROLAND 

work at Rouen had not been of a simple, unintelli- 
gent kind. He had studied seriously the whole 
subject of manufacturing in its relations to com- 
merce, to government, to society, and had worked 
out a most positive set of opinions on what was 
necessary to be done in France in order to revive 
her industries. He had already begun to write, and 
his pamphlets had attracted the attention of the 
ablest men in his department of science. 

In 1764 he had been sent to look after the manu- 
facturing interests of Languedoc, then in a serious 
condition, and in 1776 the position of Inspector in 
Picardy, the third province of the country from a 
manufacturing point of view, was given to him. For 
a man without ambition, the duties of the office were 
simple. They required him to see that the multi- 
tude of vexatious rules which were attached then to 
the making of goods and articles of all kinds, were 
carried out ; that the regulations governing masters 
and workmen were observed; that the formalities 
attending the establishment of new factories were 
not neglected; that everything of significance that 
happened in the factories in his province was re- 
ported; and that all suggestions for improvement 
which occurred to him were presented. Evidently 
an ordinary man, well protected, could fill the posi- 
tion of an inspector of manufactures and have an 
easy life. 

But M. Roland did not understand his duties in 
this way. The value of the position in his eyes was 



LOVERS AND MAEEIAGE 49 

that it permitted the regulation of disputes, allowed 
criticism, invited suggestions, encouraged study, and 
welcomed pamphlets. From the beginning of his 
connection with Picardy he had displayed an incredi- 
ble activity in all of these directions. The various 
industrial interests of the province were clashing 
seriously at the moment, and the lawyers and councils 
were only making the disagreement greater. Roland 
dismissed all interference and became himself "the 
council, the lawyer, and the protector of the manu- 
facturer." He became familiar with every master 
workman of Picardy, with every industry, with every 
process, and in the reports sent to the Council of 
Commerce at Paris, he attacked, praised, suggested 
voluminously. At the same time he was studying 
seriously. Nothing was foreign to his profession as 
he understood it, and though already he had the rep- 
utation of being a savant he went every year to Paris 
to do original work in natural history, physics, chem- 
istry, and the arts. 

Roland had only been long enough in Picardy to 
organize his office well when he began to urge the 
Council to try to introduce into France some of the 
superior manufacturing processes of other countries. 
The idea seemed wise and he was invited to undertake 
a thorough study of foreign and domestic manufact- 
uring methods. This commission led him into many 
countries. Before M. Roland met Mademoiselle 
Phlipon, in 1776, he had been through Flanders, 
Holland, Switzerland, England, Germany, and France 



50 MADAME ROLAND 

in pursuit of information. He had studied lace-mak- 
ing at Brussels, ironware at Nuremberg, linen-making 
in Silesia, pottery in Saxony, velvet and embroidered 
ribbons on the Lower Rhine, paper-making at Liege, 
cotton weaving and printing in England. 

His observations had been limited to no special 
step of the manufacturing. He looked after the 
variety of plant which produced a thread and studied 
the way it was raised. He knew how native ores 
were taken out in every part of Europe. The proc- 
esses of bleaching, dyeing, and printing in all coun- 
tries were familiar to him. He understood all sorts 
of machines and had improved many himself. His 
ideas on designing were excellent and had been en- 
larged by intelligent observation of the arts of many 
countries. 

On all of his travels Roland had amassed samples 
of the stuffs he had seen, had taken notes of dimen- 
sions, of prices, of the time required for special 
processes, of the cost of materials, had gathered the 
pamphlets and volumes written by specialists, often 
had brought back samples of machines and utensils. 
All of this he had applied faithfully in Picardy, and 
before the time he comes into our story he had had 
the satisfaction of seeing, as a result of his efforts, 
the number of shops in his domain tripled, the uten- 
sils gradually improved, a great variety of new stuffs 
made, the old ones improved, and many new ideas 
introduced from other countries. 

At the same time the full reports made of his in- 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 51 

vestigations had won him honors ; the Academy of 
Science in Paris, the Royal Society of Montpellier, 
had made him a correspondent; the academies of 
Rouen, Villefranche, and Dijon, an honorary member; 
different societies of Rome, an associate. 

He had, too, something besides technical knowl- 
edge. He was quite up to the liberal thought of 
the day and had ranged himself with the large body 
of French philosophers who were working for 
greater freedom in commerce, in politics, in religion. 
In short, M. Roland de la Platiere was a man of 
more than ordinary value, who had rendered large 
services to his country. But with all his value, and 
partly because of it, he was not an easy man to get 
along with. His hard work had undermined his 
health and left him morose and irritable. He was 
so thoroughly convinced of his own ability and use- 
fulness that he could not suffer opposition even 
from his superiors, and he used often, in his reports, 
an arrogant tone which exasperated those who were 
accustomed to official etiquette. A large quantity 
of Roland's business correspondence still exists, and 
throughout it all is evidence of his pettish, unbend- 
ing superiority. In fact, some very serious con- 
troversies arose between him and his associates at 
different times, in which if Roland was usually right 
in what he urged, his way of putting it was offensive 
to the last degree. 

Roland prided himself not only on his services, 
but on his character. He was independent, active, 



52 MADAME BOLAND 

virtuous. He admired noble deeds and good lives. 
He cultivated virtue as he did science and lie made 
himself a merit of being all this. Nothing is more 
offensive than self-complacent virtue. Be it never 
so genuine, the average man who makes no preten- 
sions finds it ridiculous and is unmoved by it. 
Goodness must be unconscious to be attractive. 

Above all, Roland prided himself on the perfect 
frankness of his character, and to prove it he refused 
to practise the amiable little flatteries and deceits 
which, under the name of politeness, keep people in 
society feeling comfortable and kindly. Shoe-buckles 
were a vain ornament, so he wore ribbons, though by 
doing it he offended the company into which he was 
invited. To tell a man he was " charmed " to see him 
when he was merely indifferent, was a lie, therefore 
he preserved a silence. He would not follow a cus- 
tom he could not defend philosophically, nor repeat 
a formality which could not be interpreted literally. 
By the conventional, what is there to be done with 
such a character? They may respect his scientific 
worth, but they cannot countenance such contempt 
for the laws of life as they understand them. 

Mademoiselle Phlipon, however, was not conven- 
tional. She admired frankness and Roland's disre- 
gard of formalities seemed to her a proof of his 
simplicity and honesty. She was not offended by 
the man's display of character. She herself was as 
self-conscious, as convinced of her own worth, and 
as fond as he of using it as an argument. As for his 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 53 

irritability and scientific arrogance, she had little 
chance to judge of it. He was so much wiser than 
she, that she accepted with gratitude and humility 
the information he gave. 

It was in 1776 that Roland first came to visit 
Manon, to whom he had been ^presented by Sophie 
Cannet, with whose family he was allied in Amiens. 
The acquaintance did not go far ; for in the fall of 
that year Roland started out on one of his long trips, 
this time to Switzerland, Italy, Sicily, and Malta. 
It was his plan to put his observations into letter 
form and on his return to publish them. He needed 
some one to whom he could address the letters, who 
would guard the copy faithfully in his absence, and 
would edit it intelligently if he should never return. 
Manon seemed to him a proper person, and so he 
requested her to permit his brother, a cure* in Cluny 
College, in Paris, to bring the letters to her. She 
naturally was flattered, and the letters which came 
regularly were a great delight to her. 

Now the sole object of Roland was evidently to 
have a safe depot for his manuscript, yet as the trip 
stretched out Manon became more and more inter- 
ested. Might it not be that this grave philosopher 
had a more personal interest in her than she had 
thought ? Might he not be the friend she sought ? 
Her fancy was soon bubbling in true Rousseau style. 
The long silences of M. Roland and the formal 
letters he wrote were not sufficient to quiet it. An 
excuse for this premature ebullition was the fact 



54 MADAME BOLAND 

that Roland seemed to be the only person in her 
little world upon whom for the moment she could 
exercise her imagination. De Sainte-Lettre was dead, 
M. de SeVelinges had withdrawn. True, there was a 
Genevese of some note, a M. Pittet, at .that time in 
correspondence with Franklin, whom she often saw. 
M. Pittet wrote for the Journal des dames and 
talked over his articles beforehand with Mademoiselle 
Phlipon, even answering in them objections she had 
made. She was flattered, it is evident from her 
letters to Sophie, by their relation and only waited a 
sign to transfer her interest to this eminent Gene- 
vese, but the sign was never given. 

Another reason for her exercising her imagination 
on Roland was the dulness of her life at the moment. 
Though Manon had a large number of good-natured 
and devoted relatives and friends who exerted them- 
selves to please her, she went out but little save to 
visit her uncle the cure Bimont. The cure lived in 
the chateau at Vincennes. Manon was a real favor- 
ite with the bizarre and amusing colony of retired 
officers and their wives, discarded favorites of the 
Court, and nobles worn out in the service, to whom a 
home had been given there. Some of the persons she 
met at Vincennes are highly picturesque. Among 
others were a number of Americans from Santo Do- 
mingo on a visit to an officer. She quickly came to 
an understanding with them, and questioned them 
closely on the revolution in progress in the neigh- 
boring colony. 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 55 

In Paris she went out rarely, but when she did 
go it was usually for a visit which, at this distance, 
is of piquant interest. An amusing attempt she 
made to see Rousseau is recounted in a letter to 
Sophie. Not that she was entirely original in this 
effort. It was the mode at the moment to practise 
all sorts of tricks to get a glimpse of the sulky 
philosopher, and Mademoiselle Phlipon, devoted dis- 
ciple that she was, could not resist the temptation. 
A friend of hers had an errand to Rousseau, of which 
he spoke before her. He saw immediately that she 
would like to discharge it in order to see the man, 
and kindly turned it over to her. Manon wrote a 
letter into which she put many things besides the 
errand, and announced that she would go on such a 
day to receive the answer. The visit she describes : 

" I entered a shoemaker's alley, Rue Platriere. I 
mounted to the second story and knocked at the door. 
One could not enter a temple with more reverence 
than I this humble door. I was agitated, but I felt 
none of that timidity which I feel in the presence 
of petty society people whom at heart I esteem but 
little. I wavered between hope and fear. . . . Would 
it be possible, I thought, that I should say of him 
what he had said of savants : 4 1 took them for angels ; 
I passed the threshold of their doors with respect ; 
I have seen them ; it is the only thing of which they 
have disabused me.' 

"Reasoning thus, I saw the door open; a woman 
of at least fifty years of age appeared. She wore a 



56 MADAME ROLAND 

round cap, a simple clean house-gown, and a big 
apron. She had a severe air, a little hard even. 

" ' Is it here that M. Rousseau lives, Madame ? ' 

" ' Yes, Mademoiselle.' 

" * May I speak to him?' 

" ' What do you want ? ' 

" ' I have come for the answer to a letter I wrote 
him a few days ago.' 

" ' He is not to be spoken to, Mademoiselle, but 
you may say to the person who had you write — for 
surely it is not you who wrote a letter like that — ' 

" i Pardon me,' I interrupted — 

" ' The handwriting is a man's.' 

" ' Do you want to see me write ? ' I said, laugh- 
ing. 

"She shook her head, adding, 'All that I can say to 
you is that my husband has given up all these things 
absolutely. He has left all. He would not ask any- 
thing better than to be of service ; but he is of an 
age to rest.' 

" ' I know it, but I should have been flattered to 
have had this answer from his mouth. I would have 
profited eagerly by the opportunity to render hom- 
age to the man whom I esteem the highest of the 
world. Receive it, Madame.' 

" She thanked me, keeping her hand on the lock, 
and I descended the stairs with the meagre sat- 
isfaction of knowing that he found my letter suffi- 
ciently well written not to believe it the work of a 
woman." 



LOVERS AND MABBIAGE 57 

Not all of her visits were so unsuccessful, as her 
description of one to Greuze shows: 

" Last Thursday, Sophie, I recalled tenderly the 
pleasure that we had two years ago, at Greuze's. 
I was there on the same errand. The subject of his 
picture is the Paternal Curse. I shall not attempt 
to give you a full description of it ; that would be 
too long. I shall simply content myself with saying 
that, in spite of the number and the variety of the 
passions expressed by the artist with force and truth- 
fulness, the work, as a whole, does not produce the 
touching impression which we both felt in consider- 
ing the other. The reason of this difference seems 
to me to be in the nature of the subject. Greuze 
can be reproached for making his coloring a little 
too gray, and I should accuse him of doing this in 
all his pictures if I had not seen this same day a 
picture of quite another style, which he showed me 
with especial kindness. It is a little girl, naive, fresh, 
charming, who has just broken her pitcher. She 
holds it in her arms near the fountain, where the 
accident has just happened; her eyes are not too 
open; her mouth is still half -agape. She is trying 
to see how the misfortune happened, and to decide 
if she was at fault. Nothing prettier and more 
piquant could be seen. No fault can be found with 
Greuze here except, perhaps, for not having made 
his little one sorrowful enough to prevent her going 
back to the fountain. I told him that and the pleas- 
antry amused us. 



58 MADAME EOLAND 

" He did not criticise Rubens this year. I was bet- 
ter pleased with him personally. He told me com- 
placently certain flattering things that the Emperor 
said to him. ... I stayed three-quarters of an hour 
with him. I was there with Mignonne [her honne] 
simply. There were not many people. I had him 
almost to myself. 

" I wanted to add to the praises that I gave him : 

On dit, Greuze, que ton pinceau 
N'est pas celui de la vertu romaine ; 
Mais il peint la nature humaine : 
C'est le plus sublime tableau. 

I kept still, and that was the best thing I did. " 

In the quiet life Manon was leading her habits of 
study and writing served her to good purpose, and 
the little room overlooking the Pont Neuf, where she 
had worked since a child, was still her favorite shrine. 
Almost every day she added something to the collec- 
tion of reflections she had begun under the title of 
Mes loisirs, or prepared something for the letters to 
Sophie; for these letters to her friend, outside of the 
gossip and narrative portions, were anything but 
spontaneous. Her habit was to copy into them the 
long digests she had made of books she read and of 
her reflections on these books. Among the manu- 
script lent me by M. Marillier I found several evi- 
dences of the preparations she made of her letters. 

In spite of friends, visits, books, and letters, how- 
ever, Manon was sad at this period. . Her father was 
leading an irregular life, which shocked and irritated 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 59 

her. No two persons could have been more poorly 
prepared for entertaining each other than M. Phlipon 
and his daughter. He was proud of her, but he had 
no sympathy with the sentiments which made her 
refuse the rich husband her accomplishments would 
have won her. He found no pleasure in talking 
with her of other than ordinary events. He recog- 
nized that she felt herself superior to him in many 
ways, and though he probably cared very little 
whether she was or not, he was annoyed that she 
felt so. 

Manon, on her part, lacked a little in loyalty 
towards her father, as well as in tenderness. She 
considered him an inferior and always had. When 
he took to dissipation, after her mother's death, in 
spite of the honest effort she made to keep his house 
pleasant and to be agreeable to him, her pride, as well 
as her affection, was hurt, and she sometimes took a 
censorious tone which could not fail to aggravate the 
case. There were often disagreeable scenes between 
them, after which M. Phlipon went about with averted 
eyes and gloomy brow. 

Manon complained to her relatives of the condition 
of her home, and the private lectures M. Phlipon 
received from them only made him more sullen. 
Sometimes, to be sure, there were returns to good 
feeling and Manon felt hopeful, but soon an extrava- 
gant or petty act of her father brought back her 
worry. In her despair she was even tempted to give 
up her philosopher and marry one of the ordinary but 



60 MADAME ROLAND 

honest and well-to-do young men her friends and rel- 
atives presented. 

Manon was thus occupied and annoyed when M. 
Roland came back from Italy in the spring of 1778. 
As he was much in Paris, the relation between them 
soon became very friendly, and he was often at the 
Quai de l'Horloge. But we hear almost nothing of 
him in the letters to Sophie. The reason was simply 
that M. Roland had requested his new friend to say 
nothing to the Cannets about his visits. Probably 
he foresaw gossip in Amiens if it was known he saw 
much of Mademoiselle Phlipon. Then, too, Henri- 
ette, an older sister of Sophie, was interested in him 
and he feared an unpleasant complication in case she 
knew of his attentions. Manon carried out his wishes 
implicitly in spite of her habit of writing everything 
to her friend. She even practised some clever little 
shifts to make Sophie believe that she did not see 
M. Roland often and then only on business connected 
with his manuscript, or to ask him some questions 
about Italian, which she had begun to study. 

The frankness on which she prided herself was 
completely set aside — a thing of which she would 
not have been capable if she had not been more 
anxious to please her new friend than she was to 
keep faith with the old. Probably, too, she was very 
well pleased to have an opportunity to give Roland 
this proof of her feeling for him. 

In the winter of 1778-79 Roland told her that he 
loved her. Manon, "en heroine de la delicatesse," 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 61 

as she puts it, felt that in the state of her fortune, 
which her father was threatening to finish soon, and 
with the danger there was of M. Phlipon bringing 
a scandal on the family, it was not right for her to 
many. /She told all this to Roland, who agreed with 
her, and they hit on a sort of a Platonic arrangement 
which went on very well for a time. They openly 
declared their affection to each other; they worked 
and studied together; they confessed to each other 
that the happiness of their lives lay in this mutual 
confidence and sympathy. But love is stronger than 
philosophy, and Roland was ardent. Manon became 
unhappy. Was her dream going to fade ? Restless 
and uncertain, she wrote Roland, who had returned 
to Amiens, of her fears, and a correspondence began 
which soon put an end to their Platonic idyl, and 
landed them amid the irritating details which at- 
tend a French betrothal. As this correspondence 
has never been published, and as it throws much 
light on the sentimental side of Manon Phlipon's 
life, it is quoted from rather fully in the following 
pages. 

Roland had laughed at her first letter complaining 
of his fervor. In answer she wrote him a volumi- 
nous epistle in which she traced the birth and growth 
of her sentimental nature. 

" You laugh at my sermon, now listen to my com- 
plaints. I am sad, discontented, ill. My heart is 
heavy, and burning tears fall without giving me 
relief ... I do not understand myself . . . but let 






— _ _ 



-: .- V 



-r . i 



'llLL - _r.J- .- 




LOVERS AND MAEEIAGE 63 

overthrown. Humanity was dear to me, and I could 
not endure to see it condemned without distinction 
and without pity. I threw over the authority which 
would force me to believe a cruel absurdity. The 
first step taken, the rest of the route was soon trav- 
elled, and I examined all with the scrupulous defiance 
which one gives to a doctrine false in an essential 
point. The philosophic works that I read at this 
time aided me, but did not determine me to come to 
a decision. Each system seemed to me to have its 
weakness and its strength. I held to some of my 
brilliant chimeras ; I became sceptical by an effort, 
and I took for my creed beneficence in conduct and 
tolerance in opinion. 

" These changes in my ideas had no influence on 
my morals. They are independent of all religious 
system because founded on the general interest which 
is the same everywhere. Harmony in the affections 
seem to me to constitute the individual goodness of 
a man ; the justice of his relations with his kind, the 
wisdom of the social man. The multiplied relations 
of the civil life have also, without doubt, multiplied 
laws and duties, and those peculiar to each one 
should be the first subject of his study. 

" The place which my sex should occupy in the 
order of nature and of society very soon fixed my curi- 
ous attention. I will not say what I thought of the 
question which has been raised as to the pre-eminence 
of one sex over the other. It has never seemed to 
me worthy of the attention of a serious mind. We 



64 MADAME ROLAND 

differ essentially, and the superiority which in some 
respects is yours does not alter the reciprocal depend- 
ence in happiness which can only be the common 
work of both. 

" I appreciated the justice, the power, and the ex- 
tent of the duties laid upon my sex. I trembled with 
joy on finding that I had the courage, the resolution, 
and the certainty of always fulfilling them. ... I 
resolved to change my condition only for the sake of 
an object worthy of absolute devotion. In the num- 
ber of those who solicited (my hand), one only of 
whom I have talked to you (M. de Sevelinges) 
merited my heart. For a long time I was silent, 
and it was only when I realized all the barriers 
between us that I asked him to leave me. I have 
had reason since to congratulate myself on this 
resolution, which was painful for me beyond ex- 
pression. 

"Many changes have come since, but I have 
steadily refused to marry except for love. I have 
lost my fortune and my pride has increased.* I would 
not enter a family which did not appreciate me enough 
to be proud of the alliance or which would think it 
was honoring me in receiving me. I have felt in 
this way a long time, and have looked upon a single 
life as my lot. My duties, true, would be fewer and 
not so sweet, perhaps, but none the less severe and 
exacting. Friendship I have regarded as my com- 
pensation, and I have wished to taste it with all the 
abandon of confidence. But you are leading me 




ROLAND DE LA PLATIERE. 
After the painting by Hesse. 



LOVEBS AND MABBIAGE 65 

too far, and it is against that that I would protect 
myself. 

" I have seen in your strong, energetic, enlightened, 
practical soul, the stuff for a friend of first rank. I 
have been delighted to regard you as such, and to all 
the seriousness of friendship I wanted to add all the 
fervor of which a tender soul is capable. But you 
have awakened in my heart a feeling against which I 
believed myself armed. I have not concealed it. I 
showed it unreservedly and I expected you to give 
me the generous support which I needed. But far 
from sparing my weakness, you became each day 
rasher, and you have dared ask me the cause of my 
pensiveness, my silence, my pain. Sir, I may be the 
victim of my sentiments, but I will never be the play- 
thing of any man. ... I cannot make an amusement 
of love. For me it is a terrible passion which would 
submerge my whole being and which would influence 
all my life. Give me back friendship or fear — to 
force me to see you no more. 

" O my friend, why disturb the beautiful relation 
between us ? My heart is rich enough to repay you 
in tenderness for all the privations it imposes upon 
you. . . . Spare me the greatest good that I know, 
the only one which makes life tolerable to me, — 
a friend sincere and faithful. I have not enough of 
your philosophy or I have too much of another which 
does not resemble yours in this point only, to give 
myself up inconsiderately to a passion which for me 
would be transport and delirium. 



6Q MADAME BOLAND 

" My friend, come back more moderate, more re- 
served, let us cherish zealously, joyfully, and confi- 
dently the tastes which can strengthen the sweet tie 
which unites us. . . . " 

This letter threw Roland into confusion. He had 
taken her at her word when she suggested an inti- 
mate friendship. He had taken her at her word 
when she told him her affection was becoming love. 
He had been, perhaps, too fervent, but how was one 
to regulate so delicate a situation ? He wrote her a 
piteous and helpless sort of letter in which he declared 
he was unhappy. Manon replied in a way which did 
not help him particularly in his quandary : 

" In the midst of the different objects which sur- 
round and oppress me, I see, I feel but you. I hear 
always, ' I am unhappy.' O God ! how, why, since 
when, are you unhappy ? Is it because I exist or 
because I love you ? The destruction of the first of 
these causes is in my power and would cost me noth- 
ing. It would take away with it the other> over 
which I have no longer any control." 

Even after this Roland was so obtuse that he was 
uncertain of her feeling for him, but finally he asked 
her squarely if it could be that all this meant that she 
loved him. Very promptly she replied \ " If I thought 
that question was unsettled for you to-day, I should 
fear it would always be." Will she marry him then, 
oui ou non? He asked the question despairingly, in 
the tone of a man who expected a scene to follow, 
but could see nothing else for him to do honorably. 



LOVERS AND MABBIAQE 67 

In a letter of passionate abandon Manon promised 
to be his wife. Roland was the happiest of men. 

" You are mine, " he wrote. " You have taken the 
oath. It is irrevocable. O my friend, my tender, 
faithful friend, I had need of that yes." 

Manon's joy was unbounded and she told it in true 
eighteenth-century style. "I weep, I struggle to 
express myself, I stifle, I throw myself upon your 
bosom, there I remain, entirely thine." Immediately 
they entered upon a correspondence, voluminous, ex- 
travagant, passionate. Manon explained to Roland 
the beginning and the development of her affection 
for him, and labored to harmonize two seemingly 
incongruous experiences, — her interest in Roland 
during the time he was in Italy and the marriage she 
had contemplated with M. de SeVelinges. The har- 
mony seems incomplete to the modern reader, but 
probably Roland was not exacting since he was sure 
of his possession. 

In every way she tried to please him, even keeping 
their betrothal a secret from Sophie — this at Roland's 
request. They planned, confided, rejoiced, and made 
each other miserable in true lover-like style. For 
some time the worst of their misunderstandings were 
caused by delays in letters, but, unfortunately, there 
were to be annoyances, in the course of their love, 
more serious than those of the postman. There was 
M. Phlipon; there was Roland's family; there were 
all the vexatious formalities which precede marriage 
in France. M. Phlipon was the most serious obstacle 



68 MADAME ROLAND 

to their happiness. Since his wife's death he had been 
constantly growing more dissipated and common. 
Roland regarded him with the cold and irritating 
disapproval of a man convinced of his own infalli- 
bility, and M. Phlipon, conscious of his own short- 
comings, disliked Roland heartily. For some time 
Roland refused to ask M. Phlipon for his daughter, 
but he counselled her to insist upon having the rem- 
nant of her dowry turned over. 

She began to talk to her father of this, and he, 
incensed at the suspicion this demand implied, be- 
came surly and defiant. He talked to the neighbors 
of his desire to live alone and accused Manon of 
ingratitude and coldness. She held to her rights, 
however, and succeeded finally in having her es- 
tate settled. She found at the end that she had 
an income of just five hundred and thirty francs a 
year. 

The disagreement with her father made her un- 
happy. She wrote Roland letters full of complaints 
and sighs. She saw everything black. She declared 
that they were farther apart than ever, that her heart 
was breaking. After a few weeks of melancholy she 
came to an understanding with her father and wrote 
joyously again. This occurred several times until at 
last Roland grew seriously out of patience with her. 
He told her that it was her lack of firmness that was 
at the bottom of her father's conduct ; that she was 
"always irresolute, always uncertain, reasoned always 
by contraries." His letters became brief, dry, im- 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 



patient. Finally, however, he wrote M. Phlipon, 
asking for Manon. 

The difficulty that Roland had foreseen with his 
prospective father-in-law was at once realized. The 
old gentleman, incensed that his daughter would not 
give him Roland's letters to examine before he re- 
plied, answered in a way which came very near end- 
ing negotiations on the spot. Since his daughter 
had taken her property into her own hands and 
since she refused to let him see the correspondence 
which had passed between her and Roland, she could 
enjoy still further the privileges her majority gave 
her and marry without his consent. 

Roland wrote to Manon, on receiving this curt 
response, that the soul of M. Phlipon horrified him; 
that he loved her as much as ever, but — "your 
father, my friend, your father," and delicately hinted 
that it would be impossible for him to present such a 
man to his own family. This was in September. For 
two months they lived in a state of miserable uncer- 
tainty. Roland accused Manon of irresolution, of in- 
consistency, and inconsequence; she accused him of 
fearing the prejudices of society, of caring less for 
her than for his family's good-will. With M. Phli- 
pon Manon alternately quarrelled and made up. 
Wretched as the lovers were, their letters nearly 
always ended in protestations of affection and ap- 
peals for confidence. 

The first of November Mademoiselle Phlipon 
brought matters to a crisis by leaving her father 



70 MADAME BOLAND 

for good and retiring to the Convent of the Congrega- 
tion. She wrote Sophie, who, of course, had known 
nothing of her affair with Roland, but to whom she 
had often written freely of her trouble with her 
father, that she had taken this resolution in order to 
save her family, if possible, from further disgrace. 

In going into the convent she had broken with 
Roland. They were to remain friends, but dismiss 
all projects of marriage ; but they continued to write 
heart-broken letters to each other. She told him, " I 
love you. I feel nothing but that. I repeat it as if 
it were something new. Your agonized letters in- 
flame me. I devour them and they kill me. I cover 
them with kisses and with tears." 

Roland was quite as unhappy. He had taken 
Manon at -her word again when she declared that 
their engagement was at an end, and that they 
would remain friends ; but he could not support her 
unhappiness; he was too wretched himself. The 
worst of it was that he could not make out what she 
wanted: "You continually reproach me," he wrote 
her in November, " of not understanding you. Is it 
my fault ? Do you not go by contraries ? " — " You 
complain always of what I say, and you always tell 
me to tell you all. . . . You protest friendship and 
confidence at the moment you give me proofs of the 
contrary. All your letters are a tissue of contradic- 
tions, of bitterness, of reproaches, of wrangling." 

This unhappy state continued until January, 
when Roland went to Paris and saw Manon. Her 



LOVERS AND MARRIAGE 71 

sadness and her tears overcame him, and again he 
begged her to marry him. This time the affair was 
happier, and in February Manon Phlipon became 
Madame Roland. 

Twelve years later, in her Memoirs, Madame Ro- 
land gave an account of this courtship and marriage, 
which is a curious contrast to that one finds in the 
letters written at the time. If these letters show 
anything, it is that she was, or at least imagined 
herself, desperately in love; that after having out- 
lined a Platonic relation she had broken it by telling 
Roland she loved him too well to endure the restric- 
tions of mere friendship ; that she had been extrava- 
gantly happy in her betrothal, and correspondingly 
miserable in her liberation ; and that when the mar- 
riage was finally effected she was thoroughly satisfied. 

But in her Memoirs she says of Roland's first 
proposal: "I was not insensible to it because I 
esteemed him more than any one whom I had 
known up to that time," but — "I counselled M. 
Roland not to think of me, as a stranger might have 
done. He insisted : I was touched and I consented 
that he speak to my father." She gives the impres- 
sion that as far as she was concerned her heart was 
not in the affair, that she merely was moved by Ro- 
land's devotion, and that she saw in him an intelligent 
companion. Of his coming to her at the convent, 
she says that it was he alone who was inflamed by 
the interview, and she gives the impression that his 
renewed proposal awakened in her nothing but sober 



72 MADAME BOLAND 

and wise reflections: "I pondered deeply what I 
ought to do. I did not conceal from myself that 
a man under forty-five would have hardly waited 
several months to make me change my mind, and I 
confess that I had no illusions. ... If marriage was, 
as I thought it, a serious tie, an association where the 
woman is for the most part charged with the happi- 
ness of two persons, was it not better to exercise my 
faculties, my courage, in that honorable task, than in 
the isolation in which I lived?" 

But at the time that Madame Rolaud wrote her 
Memoirs she was under the influence of a new and 
absorbing passion. The love, which twelve years 
before had so engulfed all other considerations and 
affections that she could for it break up her home, 
desert her father, take up a solitary and wretched 
existence, even contemplate suicide, had become an 
indifferent affair of which she could talk philosoph- 
ically and at which she could smile disinterestedly. 



Ill 



SEEKING A TITLE 



f I ^HE first year of their marriage the Rolands spent 
-*- in Paris. New regulations were being planned 
by the government for the national manufactures, 
and Roland had been summoned to aid in the work. 
It was an irritating task. His principles of free 
trade, and free competition, were sadly ignored, even 
after all the concessions obtainable from the govern- 
ment had been granted, and Madame Roland saw for 
the first time the irascibility and rigidness of her 
husband when his opinions were disregarded. 

They lived in a Jidtel garni, and she gave all her 
time to him, preparing his meals even, for he was 
never well, and spending hours in his study aiding 
him in his work. Roland's literary labors seem to 
have awed her a little at first, and she took up copy- 
ing and proof-reading with amusing humility and 
solemnity. It was not an inviting task for a young 
and imaginative mind accustomed to passing leisure 
hours with the best thinkers of the world. Roland 
was writing on manufacturing arts and getting his 
letters from Italy ready for the printer. As always, 

73 



74 MADAME ROLAND 

he was overcrowded with work. He was particular 
and tenacious, careless about notes, and wrote an 
execrable hand, — about the most aggravating type 
possible to work with. But his wife accommodated 
herself to him with a tact, a submission, a gentle- 
ness which were perfect. He found her judgment 
so true, her devotion so complete, her notions of 
style so much better than his own, that he grew to 
depend upon her entirely. It was the object she had 
in view. She wanted to make herself indispensable 
to him. 

Thus the first year of her marriage was largely an 
apprenticeship as a secretary and proof-reader. In 
order to be better prepared for her duties, she deter- 
mined to follow the lectures in natural history and 
botany at the Jardin des Plantes. This study, begun 
for practical reasons, was in reality a delight and a 
recreation; for she had already a decided taste for 
science, and was even something of an observer. 
The lectures led to her forming one of the most satis- 
factory relations of her life, that with Bosc, a mem- 
ber of the Academy of Sciences, and well known in 
Paris for his original work. Bosc took an active 
interest in Madame Roland and her husband, and 
was of great use to them in their studies, as well as a 
most congenial comrade. In fact, they saw almost 
no one but him at this time. Absorbed in her hus- 
band and her new duties, Madame Roland relished 
no one who was not in some way essential to that 
relation. Even Sophie was neglected ; only six let- 



SEEKING A TITLE 75 

ters to her during the year 1780, after the marriage, 
appearing in the published collection, and evidently 
from their contents they are about all she wrote. 

The year was broken towards its close by a two 
months' visit to the Beaujolais, where Roland's fam- 
ily lived. That she was heartily welcomed by her 
new relatives and charmed by her visit, her reports 
to Sophie show. " We are giving ourselves up like 
school children to the delights of a country life," 
she wrote from Le Clos, "seasoned by all that har- 
mony, intimacy, sweet ties, pleasant confidences, and 
frank friendship can give. I have found brothers to 
whom I can give all the affection that the name in- 
spires, and I share joyfully bonds and relations which 
were unknown to me." When she returned to Paris 
she declared that she was delighted with her trip, that 
the separation from her new family was painful in the 
extreme, and that the two months with them were 
passed in the greatest confidence and closest intimacy. 

From Paris they went to Amiens, which was to be 
their home for some time. The old city, with its 
glorious cathedral, its remnants of middle age life, 
and its industrial atmosphere, interested her but 
little. In fact, she never had an opportunity to get 
very near to it. The first year of her stay she was 
confined by the birth of her only child, Eudora. 
Good disciple of Rousseau that she was, she con- 
cluded to nurse her baby herself, in defiance of 
French custom, and naturally saw little of Amiens 
society. 



76 MADAME ROLAND 

When she was able to go out, Roland's work had 
become so heavy that she had little time for any- 
thing but copying and proof-reading. He was pre- 
paring a serious part of the famous Encyclopedie 
methodiqiie, the continuation of the work of Diderot 
and D'Alembert. Of this great undertaking four 
volumes — numbers 117-120 — are devoted to man- 
ufactures, arts, and trades; the first three of these 
are by Roland, and appeared in 1784, 1785, and 
1790. 

The plan Roland followed in this work is an excel- 
lent example of the methodic mind of the man, bent 
on analyzing the earth and its contents, and putting 
into its proper place there each simplest operation, 
each smallest article. He devised an ingenious dia- 
gram in which he classified according to the historic, 
economic, or administrative side everything he treated 
— one is obliged to master this system before he can 
find the subject he wants to know about. A botani- 
cal analysis is play beside it. Roland's contributions 
to the Encyclopedie methodique are valuable no doubt, 
but one needs a guide-book to find his way through 
them. 

Roland's attempt to run over everything which 
directly or indirectly concerned his subject, and the 
enormous number of notes he made, encumbered his 
work wof ully. He could not resist the temptation to 
use everything he had at hand, and as a result his 
articles are frequently diffuse and badly arranged, 
though always full of instruction, even if it is some- 



SEEKING A TITLE 77 

times a little puerile. Neither could he resist the 
temptation to condemn and to argue. 

But though burdened with details sometimes irrel- 
evant, not properly and sufficiently digested, too per- 
sonal, indulging in much criticism of his authorities, 
not to say considerable carping, the volumes on man- 
ufactures and arts are a colossal piece of work, most 
valuable in their day, but which never had their full 
credit because of the stormy times in which they 
appeared, and, perhaps, not a little too, because of the 
chaotic series of encyclopedias to which they belonged; 
for certainly there could with difficulty be a greater 
mass of information published in a more inaccessible 
shape than that in the Encyclopedie methodique. 

It was in arranging notes, copying, polishing, 
and reading proofs of articles on soaps and oils, 
dyes and weaving, skins and tanning, that Madame 
Roland spent most of her time from 1780 to 1784. 
A part of the work which was more happy was the 
botanizing they did. During their four years at 
Amiens, she made, in fact, a very respectable herba- 
rium of Picardy. 

Of society she saw less than one would suppose, 
since the Cannets were here, and since her husband 
occupied so prominent a place. She did, of course, 
see Sophie and Henriette, but not often, Roland 
did not wish her to be with them much, and she, 
obedient to his wishes, complied. They had one 
intimate friend — a Dr. Lanthenas that Roland had 
met in Italy, and who, since their marriage, had be- 



78 MADAME BOLAND 

come a constant and welcome visitor in their home. 
Then there were their acquaintances in the town — 
but for them she cared but little. 

Indeed, she was thoroughly submerged in domestic 
life. She seems to have had no thought, no desire, 
no happiness outside of her husband and her child. 
A great number of her letters written at this period 
to Roland, who was frequently away from home, 
have been preserved ; one searches them in vain for 
any interest in affairs outside her house. She wrote 
pages of her bonnes, of the difficulty of finding this 
or that in the market, of the price of groceries, of 
the repairs to be made, above all, of her own ills 
and of those of Eudora, and she counselled Roland 
as to his plasters and potions. Her absorption in 
her family went so far that public questions rather 
bored her than otherwise, as this remark in a letter 
in 1781 shows : 

" M. de Yin [one of their friends at Amiens] came 
to see me yesterday expressly to tell me of our vic- 
tory in America over Cornwallis. He saluted me 
with this news on entering, and I was forced to carry 
on a long political conversation — I cannot conceive 
the interest that a private person, such as he is, has 
in these affairs of kings who are not fighting for us." 

Her calm domestic life was broken in 1784. 
Roland was dissatisfied at Amiens. His health was 
miserable. His salary was small. He was out of 
patience with the men and circumstances which sur- 
rounded him. His idea was to seek a title of no- 



SEEKING A TITLE 79 

bility. Such a concession would give him the rights 
of the privileged, freedom from taxes of all sorts, 
a certain income, a position in society. He would 
be free to pursue his studies. There were grounds 
on which to base his claim. His family was one of 
the most ancient of Beaujolais. Then there were 
his services, — over thirty years of hard work, long 
tedious travels, solely for the good of the country. 

It was decided, in the spring of 1784, that Madame 
Roland undertake the delicate and intricate task of 
presenting the matter at Versailles. In March she 
went to Paris, armed with the memoire which set 
forth Roland's claim. It is a collection of curious 
enough documents ; showing how one must go back 
to very ancient times to find the origin of the Rolands 
in Beaujolais, how the name is "lost in the night 
of time, a tradition placing it between the eleventh 
and twelfth centuries." 

The memoir which presents this family tree of 
Roland is further strengthened by the names of the 
foremost of Beaujolais, testifying that it is '''•sincere 
et veritable"; and by a row of big black seals. Of 
actual connected genealogy the memoir goes no fur- 
ther than 1574. Roland, however, took a lofty tone, 
and declared his services were a more solid and real 
reason for granting his request. Evidently they had 
thoroughly studied the situation, had gathered all 
the facts which would support their case, and had 
enlisted all their relations of influence, so that when 
Madame Roland began her diplomatic career she was 



80 MADAME ROLAND 

furnished with all the arms which reflection on a de- 
sired object give a woman of imagination, eloquence, 
and beauty. 

The daily letters which they exchanged in the 
period she was in Paris, give a fresh and charming 
picture of favor-seeking in the eighteenth century. 
They wrote to each other with frankness and good 
humor of everything — rebuffs or advancement. 
They evidently had concluded to leave nothing un- 
turned to secure the reward which they were con- 
vinced they deserved. 

Madame Roland established herself, with her 
bonne, at the H6tel de Lyon, Hue Saint Jacques, 
then the Boulevard Saint Michel of the Left Bank. 
Her brother-in-law, a prior in the Benedictine Order 
of the Cluny, lived near by and helped her settle ; 
brought her what she needed from his own apart- 
ment; passed his evenings with her; did her errands, 
and helped her generally. She seems not to have 
seen her father at all. 

In order to secure the grant of nobility, a favorable 
recommendation to the King from the Royal Counsel 
of Commerce, of which body the conseiller ordinaire 
was M. de Calonne, Oontroleur-general des finances, 
was necessary. To obtain this all possible recom- 
mendations must be brought to M. de Calonne's 
attention ; particularly was it necessary to cultivate 
the directors of commerce, with whom the Controller- 
general consulted freely, and on whom he depended 
for advice. They had arranged, before she left 






SEEKING A TITLE 81 

Amiens, a list of the people upon whom they could 
rely directly or indirectly for letters of introduction 
and for other favors. 

No sooner was she settled than she began the work 
of seeing them. At the very commencement she en- 
countered prejudice and irritation against Roland. 
One of her friends, who evidently had been investi- 
gating affairs ahead, assured her that Roland was 
viewed everywhere with dissatisfaction, and that the 
common opinion was, though he did a great deal 
of work, he did not know how to keep his place. 
One of the directors told her : " Take care how 
you present him to us as a superior man. It is his 
pretension, but we are far from judging him as such." 
" Pedantry, insupportable vanity, eagerness for glory, 
pretensions of all sorts, obstinacy, perpetual contra- 
diction, bad writer, bad politician, determination to 
regulate everything, incapable of subordination," 
were among the criticisms upon her husband, to 
which Madame Roland had to listen. 

All of these complaints she faced squarely, writ- 
ing them to Roland with a frankness which is half- 
amusing, half -suspicious. One wonders if she is 
not taking advantage of the situation to tell her 
husband some wholesome truths about himself. She 
did not hesitate, in repeating these criticisms, to add 
frequent counsels, which support the suspicion and 
show how thoroughly she realized the danger of 
Roland's fault-finding irritation. " Above all, as I 
told you before my departure, do not get angry in 



82 MADAME ROLAND 

your letters, and let nie see them before they are 
sent. You must not irritate them any more. Your 
pride is well enough known, show them your good 
nature now." 

The criticisms on Roland's character did not dis- 
concert her. She pressed ahead, talked, reasoned, 
urged, obtained promises; in short, showed herself 
an admirable intrigante. She was afraid of no one. 
" As for my role, I know it so well that I could 
defend it before the King without being embarrassed 
by his crown," she wrote Roland. After she had 
secured what she wanted from each person, she did 
her best to keep them friendly ; for she had decided 
to ask for a pension if she did not secure the letters. 
She succeeded admirably, even M. de Tolozan, one 
of the directors whom she called her " bear," telling 
her one day : " You have lost nothing by this trip, 
Madame. We all do honor to your honesty and 
your intelligence, and I am very glad to have made 
your acquaintance." 

She seems not to have despised rather question- 
able methods even : " Did I not let a certain per- 
son who was asking about my family, and who was 
astonished that I should take so much trouble for a 
daughter, believe that I expected an heir in a few 
months ? That makes the business more touching. 
They look at me walk and I laugh in my sleeve. I 
do not go so far, though, as to tell a deliberate lie, 
but, like a good disciple of Escobar, I give the impres- 
sion without talking." 



SEEKING A TITLE 83 

Whenever she was successful she was frankly 
delighted, and she began to think herself capable of 
great things in diplomacy : " If we were at Paris with 
just fifteen thousand livres income, and I should de- 
vote myself to business — I almost said intrigue — I 
should have no trouble in doing many things." Her 
friends at Paris had as good opinion of her ability as 
she herself did. Bosc wrote Roland of her surprising 
finesse in managing difficult relations, in interesting 
people, and of turning even objections to her own 
credit. " In fact, she is astonishing," he says. 

But it was not easy after all. There were delays 
which wore out her spirit. And she experienced to 
the full the effects of the French vice of doing noth- 
ing on time. The continual trips back and forth to 
Versailles exasperated her. Then the business of 
each counsel was so great that even after she had 
gotten to M. de Calonne she was obliged to wait 
her turn. The money all this cost was, of course, a 
constant annoyance. They were poor and could not 
afford the carriage hire, the finery, and the presents 
that favor-seeking in the simplest way cost. The 
business of solicitation in itself was much less rasping 
for her than one would suspect. In fact, she seemed 
to enjoy it. Her successes set her writing bubbling 
letters to Roland. She rarely showed irritation, 
almost never impatience of the greatness of others, 
nor any sign of feeling her position as a solicitor. 
It was only the failure to see her cause advance 
rapidly that disheartened her. 



84 MADAME ROLAND 



The uncertainty lasted until the middle of May, 
when it became evident all had been done that could 
be, and that the title was impossible. She decided 
to retire to Amiens and to return later to seek a 
pension. Suddenly she got a new bee in her bonnet. 
When making her farewell calls, she heard a bit of 
news which persuaded her that changes were to be 
made in the department of commerce by which 
Roland might be sent to Lyons as inspector. It was 
a larger and more interesting city than Amiens. 
It was near his home. The salary would be larger, 
the work easier. There was no time to consult 
Roland. If done at all, it must be done on the 
spot. She went to work and almost immediately se- 
cured her request. The directors with whom she had 
been laboring so long to secure the impossible, were 
glad enough to grant her what appeared to them 
reasonable. At the same time that she received 
word of the appointment, a letter came from Roland 
saying that the change to Lyons, of which she had 
written him as soon as it came into her head, would 
suit him if it would her. 

Roland took this leadership and decision on the 
part of Madame in most excellent spirit. The 
change was the best that they could do, he wrote ; 
as for the work, that would go on "in slippers." 
He even showed no resentment at a curtain lecture 
she gave him adroitly by the way of a third person, 
telling him of his duties at Lyons. He cast out of 
the account her fears for his health and peace of 



SEEKING A TITLE 85 

mind. It was she who occupied him — if the change 
pleased her he had no other care. 

Indeed, from the beginning of the campaign, Ro- 
land's letters to his wife were full of consideration 
for her position, of anxiety for her health, of long- 
ing for her return. Every ache or fatigue she wrote 
of caused him the greatest anxiety. Throughout the 
correspondence, the expression of confidence, of mut- 
ual help, of tenderness, was perfect. Their interest 
extended to every detail of the other's life, Madame 
Roland insisting upon her husband's wearing a cer- 
tain plaster for some of his ailments, and he counsel- 
ling her not to come home without a new hat. 

They gave each other all the news of Paris and 
Amiens, and there are many pages of her letters, 
especially, which are interesting for those studying 
the life of that day : thus, during her stay in Paris, 
two famous pieces — the Danaides of Gluck and the 
Figaro of Beaumarchais — were given for the first 
time, and he*r letters on them are long and vivid. 
More curious than opera or theatre is the place 
mesmerism takes in the letters; the Rolands had 
taken up the new fad, presumably to see what it 
would do for Roland, and were members of the 
Magnetic Club of Amiens ; Madame Roland repeated 
to her husband everything she heard on the subject. 

Wire-pulling, favor-seeking, letter-writing, theatre- 
going and Mesmer-studying were over at last, and 
the end of May she started home, and glad to go. 
The separation had been severe for them both. 



MADAME ROLAND 



There is scarcely a letter in the two collections not 
marked by tenderness ; many of them are passionate 
in their warmth and longing. It is evident that at 
this time Madame Roland had no life apart from her 
husband. 

Madame Roland reached Amiens early in June. 
The first day of July she and her husband left for 
a trip in England which they had long planned. 
She counted much on it; for many years she had 
been an enthusiastic admirer of the English Consti- 
tution and its effects on the nation. Roland had 
been there before and was somewhat known, and 
naturally she saw what he thought best to show 
her. 

The journey lasted three weeks and she wrote 
full notes of what she saw for her daughter. 
These notes were published in Champagneux's edi- 
tion of her works. They are in no respect remark- 
able for originality of observation, or for wit. But 
they are always intelligent and practical, a result, 
no doubt, of Roland's companionship. They touch 
a wide range of subjects and they are entertaining 
as a look at what an eighteenth-century traveller 
saw. It is easy to see that Madame Roland, as most 
travellers do, sought to confirm her preconceived 
ideas. England, for her, was the country of free- 
dom, and she saw that which was in harmony with 
her ideas. 



IV 



COUNTRY LIFE 



"FT was in September of 1784 that the Rolands 
-*- arrived in Beaujolais. Although Roland's new 
position kept him the greater part of the time at 
Lyons, they settled for the winter some twenty-eight 
kilometres north, in Villefranche-sur-Sa6ne. It was 
mainly for economical reasons that they did not go 
to Lyons. Roland's mother had a home at Ville- 
franche and they could live with her through the 
winter. The summers and autumns they meant to 
spend at Le Clos de la Platiere, the family estate 
about eleven miles from Villefranche, which had 
recently come under their control. With such an 
arrangement it was necessary to take only a small 
apartment at Lyons. As M. Roland could come 
often to Villefranche and Le Clos, Madame planned 
to spend only about two months of the year at Lyons. 
Villefranche, their first home in the Beaujolais, is to- 
day a manufacturing town of perhaps twelve thousand 
inhabitants. There is a wearisome commonplace 
about its rows of flat-faced houses, a dusty, stupid, 
factory atmosphere about it as a whole. It seems to 

87 



88 MADAME BOLAND 

be utterly destitute of those genre pictures which give 
the flavor to so many French towns, utterly lacking 
in those picturesque corners which make their charm. 

Save Notre Dame des Marais and the hospital, it 
has no buildings of note, but Notre Dame des Marais 
makes up for a multitude of architectural deficiencies. 
It is an irregular fifteenth-century Gothic church 
whose unbalanced facade is enriched with an absolute 
riot of exquisite carvings. Every ogive is latticed 
with trefoils and flowing tracery, every niche is peo- 
pled, every line breaks into tendrils, everywhere is the 
thistle in honor of the house of Bourbon, everywhere 
are saints and angels, devils and monsters. A hundred 
years ago Villefranche must have been more inter- 
esting than it is now. Certainly it was more pictu- 
resque; for its towers and crenellated walls were still 
standing, and at either extremity of its chief thor- 
oughfare were massive gates, doubled with iron. Its 
picturesqueness interfered somewhat with its comfort 
and sanitary condition in Madame Roland's eyes. 
She detested particularly its flat roofs, its little 
streets, with their surface sewers. In its organiza- 
tion it was much more complicated than to-day, and 
it possessed at least one institution, since disap- 
peared, which placed it among the leading French 
towns of the period, that is, an academy, one of the 
oldest in the realm. 

The household which the Rolands entered at 
Villefranche was made up of Madame de la Platiere, 
Roland's mother, and an older brother, a priest of 



COUNTRY LIFE 89 



the town. The latter is a pleasant example of 
the eighteenth-century curd, half man of pleasure, 
half priest, spirited and versatile in conversation, 
something of a diplomat, faithful to his dogmas and 
duties, bon enfant in morals, but in questions of 
politics and religion, domineering and prejudiced. 

The chanoine Roland occupied an excellent posi- 
tion at Villefranche. He was one of the three dig- 
nitaries of Notre Dame des Marais; he was the 
spiritual adviser of the sisters at the hospital, and 
he had been for over thirty years an Academician. 
With these offices, his family, and his agreeableness, 
he was of course received by all the families of the 
town and country worth knowing. 

Madame Roland was on very good terms with the 
chanoine in all the early years in Beaujolais, caring 
for him when sick, making visits with him, talking 
with him over the fire winter evenings when Roland 
was away from home. No doubt he found her 
a welcome addition in a house which up to that 
time had been under the more or less tyrannical 
rule of his mother, a woman "of the age of the 
century," and " terrible in her temper." Madame 
Roland found him a welcome relief from the care of 
her mother-in-law, whom she seems to have regarded 
rather as an object for patience and philosophy than 
for affection. The old lady was trying. She had 
the child's vice of gormandizing, and after each 
petite debauche, as her daughter-in-law called it, was 
an invalid for a few days. Then she invited reck- 



90 MADAME BOLANB 

lessly, a habit that made much work and expense, 
and was particularly obnoxious to Madame Roland 
because the company passed all their time at cards. 
To see the house filled every evening with people 
who had not intellect and resources to entertain each 
other intelligently was exasperating. 

All these annoyances Madame Roland repeated to 
her husband in the long letters she sent him almost 
every day. More questionable than her habit of 
writing these petty vexations to him was her retail- 
ing of them to Bosc, with whom she was in constant 
correspondence. 

In spite of the drawbacks there was much bright- 
ness in the new home, much of that close intimacy 
which is the charm of the French interior. Madame 
Roland realized this and frequently painted pleasant 
pictures to Bosc as contrasts to the disagreeable ones 
she gave him. 

Although Madame Roland was greeted cordially 
at Villefranche by the leading people, as became the 
wife and sister-in-law of two prominent men, she 
never came any nearer to what was really good and 
enjoyable in the place than she had in Amiens. The 
town displeased her, as it naturally would, since she 
insisted on comparing it with Paris. She amused 
herself in studying the soul of the place, and she 
found it frequently small, false, and distorted. Now 
an analysis of one's surroundings is certainly amusing 
and instructive, but if one is to be a good neighbor 
and agreeable member of the society he dissects, he 



COUNTRY LIFE 91 



must keep his observations to himself; must place 
humanity and courtesy higher than analysis. Ma- 
dame Roland did not do this ; she showed often what 
she thought and felt, and became unpopular in return. 
Roland, too, made himself disliked in the Academy 
of Villefranche by his domineering ways. 

The Abbe Guillon de Montleon, of Lyons, who was 
a fellow academician of Roland's, relates that when- 
ever he went to the town to attend Academy meet- 
ings, Madame Roland and her husband tried to secure 
him as their guest, and he suggests that this attention 
was due simply to the fact that they were on bad 
terms with their townsmen and were obliged to find 
their company in outsiders. It seems that a satire 
on a number of the leading people of the town had 
been sent from Paris, and that it was believed to be 
the work of M. and Madame Roland. Whether 
true or not, those who had been caricatured revenged 
themselves by cutting them and by ordering sent to 
them each day from Paris satirical epigrams and 
songs. 

The Abbe* Guillon also tells that Roland left the 
Academy of Villefranche in a pet because that body 
refused in 1788 to adopt the subject he had suggested 
for a prize contest — " Would it not serve the public 
good to establish courts to judge the dead." 

However, all that the Abbe* tells of Roland must 
be regarded with suspicion. He wrote after the 
Revolution, with his heart full of bitter contempt and 
hatred of everybody who had been connected with 



; - yfAT)A*TE BOLAJfB 

:_r movement which led up to the Reign of Terror 
in Lyons, and. at that moment, was not capable of 
impersonal judgments. 

Madam e Rol i o 1 w m not much bettei pleased 

with Lyons than with Villefranche. She did not 
love the place too well. At Lyons she mocked at 
everything, she said. She *vas well situated there. 
however. Their apartment was in a fine house in a 
pleasant quarter, and Madame had the equipage :: 
a friend to use when she would. She aw many 
celebrities who passed through the town ; was in- 
vited constantly; made visits ; in fact, had an admir- 
able social position, as became the wife of one of the 
most : stive eitizeaa :f the town, and Roland certainly 
was that. His reputation for solid acquirements had 
preceded him. On arriving in Lyons he was made 
an honorary member of the Academy, and afterwards 
an active member, and from that time he constantly 
was at the front in the work of the institution. 

In the archives :: :he Academy of Lyons there are 
jtfll preserved a large number of manuscripts 
Roland, some of these in the hand of his wife. J'..- - 
am a variety of subjects: the choice of themes 
for the public seances of the provincial acaden: 
th _ influence of literature in the . md the cap- 

ital (this paper was given a place in the published 
annals) ; the outlook for a universal language — to 
be French of course. One peculiar paper, to r 
from k by a pen as his, is on the "Means of Un- 
derstanding a Woman." Plutarch comes in for a 



COUNTRY LIFE 93 



eulogy, and there is an exhortation on the wisdom 
of knowing our fellows. Most of the manuscripts 
are purely scientific, and treat the subjects in which 
M. Roland was particularly at home, — the preparation 
of hides and leather, of oils and soaps ; the processes 
of drying. Others consider means for quickening 
the decaying manufacturing interests of Lyons. Al- 
together, it is a very honorable collection. The 
annals of the Academy contain also a full printed 
report of a contest over cotton velvet which had 
embroiled Roland in the North. Both sides of the 
discussion, which Roland's efforts to spread the 
knowledge of the new industry awakened, are given. 
I have examined all of these manuscripts, as well 
as Roland's printed articles in the JEney elope die, and 
elsewhere, for a trace of the idea the Abbe Guillon 
de Montleon credits to him, in his Memoirs, — 
that dead bodies, instead of being buried, be util- 
ized for the good of the community, the flesh 
being used for oil and the bones for phosphoric 
acid. This idea was advanced, it is said, to settle 
a dispute over the cemeteries, which had long agi- 
tated Lyons ; but as there is no reference to it in any 
of Roland's manuscripts or printed articles, it is 
probable that it was never pushed to public atten- 
tion, as the Abbe would have his reader believe. The 
story is told too naturally not to have at least a 
shadow of truth, and such a proposition is so like the 
utilitarian Roland that, if anybody in France sug- 
gested such a thing, it probably was he. 



94 MADAJIE EOLAXI) 

If their life in Yillefranche and Lyons was not 
satisfactory, that at their country home was entirely 
so; indeed, Madame Roland seems never to have 

been so happy, so natural, so charming, as she was at 
Le Clos. where she spent much time each year. 

Le Clos is easily reached from Villefranche. One 
goes to-day. as one hundred years ago. in carriage, or, 
as Madame Roland usually did. on horseback, by one 
of the hard, smooth roads which have long formed a 
network over the Lyonnais. The road runs from 
the town along a narrow valley of luxuriant pasture 
land, strewn in May. the month in which I visited 
the place, with purple mints and pure yellow fleur- 
de-iys. On either hand are low. steep hillsides, all 
under cultivation, but so divided under the French 
system of inheritance that they look like patchwork 
quilts or Roman ribbons. A kilometre from town 
one begins to wind and climb. Hill after hill, moun- 
tain after mountain, is passed: the country opens 
broad and generous. There is a peculiar impression 
of warmth and strength produced by the prevailing 
color of the soil and building-material. This part 
of the Lyonnais is clad in a dark stone, and walls and 
churches, roads and fields, are all in varying tones of 
terra-cotta : here is the fresh, bright reddish-yellow 
of a plot recently cultivated and not yet planted: 
there the dull and worn-out brown of an ancient 
wall : but. though the shades are varied, the tone is 
never lost. The green of the foliage and fields is 
peculiarly dark and positive in contrast with this 



COUNTRY LIFE 95 



coloring of the stone. The whole makes a landscape 
of originality and a certain rude strength. It looks 
like a country where men worked and where there 
was little to tempt them to idleness. When one 
comes to Beaujolais, after the soft gray tone of the 
Cdte-d'Or and the Seine-et-Marne, or the dull slate 
which prevails in Bourbonnais, the contrast is harsh 
and a little saddening. 

It is a thickly settled country, and one passes 
many hamlets, all in terra-cotta, with high walls and 
old churches topped by Romanesque towers. At the 
centre of these hamlets are ancient crucifixes, some 
of them of grotesque carvings. On the distant hill- 
sides are chateaux. 

After climbing many hills, one passes along the 
side of a mountain ridge. At the end of this ridge 
one sees a yellow town, of some fifty houses, a cha- 
teau with its tower razed to the roof, and a small 
chapel. It is the village of Theize\ 

"While his eyes are still on the village, he falls into 
a hamlet, at the end of whose one street is a high 
wall and gate. It is Le Clos. Shut in by high yel- 
low walls, — one might almost say fortifications, they 
are so long and so high, — the quaint country house, 
dating from the first of the last century, is a tranquil, 
sheltered spot which gives one the feeling of complete 
seclusion from the world. On one side of the house 
lies the court, with its broad grass-plot, its low wall, 
its long rows of stone farm, and vintage buildings; 
on the other, lies an English garden, planted thickly 



96 MADAME BOLAND 

with maples, sycamores, and hemlocks, with lilac 
clumps and shrubs, with roses and vines. Enclosing 
this garden on two sides is a stone terrace, forming a 
beautiful promenade. From here all the panorama 
of the Beaujolais hills, mountains, and valleys opens, 
with their vineyards, yellow houses, forests, and here 
and there a tower — the bellevue of some rich nine- 
teenth-century proprietor or the relic of some an- 
cient chateau. Far beyond the farthest, faintest 
mountain outline rises, on clear nights, the opal crest 
of Mont Blanc. 

To the left of garden and house are vines and 
fruit trees ; to the right, a long lane and vegetable 
garden; and everywhere beyond are vines, vines, 
vines, to the very brook in Beauvallon at the foot of 
the hillside. 

In Madame Roland's time the country about Le 
Clos was much more heavily wooded than now. 
There was less of vine raising and more of grain, 
but many features are unchanged. These trees are 
of her time no doubt, these vines, these walls, and 
she doubtlessly gathered blossoms, as one does to- 
day, from the long hedge of roses panaches, the won- 
derful striped roses of Provence now almost unknown 
in France, though still rioting the full length of one 
of the walls of Le Clos, — fanciful, sweet things 
which by their infinite variety set one, in spite of 
himself, at the endless search of finding two alike, 
as in the play of his childhood with the striped grass 
of his grandmother's yard. 



COUNTRY LIFE 97 



From the terrace she saw, as we do, in the valley 
at the right, the chateau of Brossette, the friend of 
Boileau; and on the hillside in front, the curious 
little chapel of Saint Hippolyte ; and she must often 
have heard the story the country folk still tell of the 
place, how centuries ago the Saracens ravaged all the 
country as far as this valley, but here were driven 
back. The Franks, in honor of their victory, raised 
a chapel to Saint Hippolyte and many miracles 
were performed there, and the people came to the 
shrine in pilgrimage from long distances. Now, 
certain neighbors, wishing to possess this miracle- 
working statue of Saint Hippolyte, had it carried off, 
but at the moment that the person carrying the saint 
attempted to cross the brook in Beauvallon, the holy 
image jumped from his shoulder and ran at full speed 
back to the chapel. The pious thieves, seeing the 
preference of the saint, like good Christians, gave up 
their project. 

The mountains of Beaujolais changed from faintest 
violet to darkest purple for her as for us, and the 
crest of Mont Pilate, or the Cat Mountain as the 
Lyonnais peasants call Mont Blanc, startled and 
thrilled her by its mysterious opalescent beauty when 
now and then it appeared on the horizon suddenly, 
like some celestial thing. 

The house, a white, square structure, with pavilions 
at the corners of the court side, and red tiled roof, 
is unchanged without, though rearranged somewhat 
within. Nevertheless, there are many things to recall 



98 MADAME ROLAND 

the Rolands and their immediate friends ; the ancient 
well ; the brass water-fountain ; now and then a book, 
with Roland de la Platiere on the fly-leaf, in the well- 
filled cases which one finds in every room ; a terra- 
cotta bust of Roland himself (by Chinard, dated 
1777) ; portraits of the family, including one called 
Madame Roland, which nobody supposes to be she ; 
photographs of the beautiful La Tour pastels of M. 
and Madame Phlipon, now in the museum of Lyons ; 
an oil of the chanoine ; a few fine old arms in the 
collection which decorates the billiard room ; a table 
whose top is made of squares of variegated marbles 
brought from Italy by Roland. 

There is now and then a sign about the house of 
what it suffered in the Revolution ; for Le Clos was 
pillaged then and stripped of its contents at the same 
time that the chateau above had its towers razed. 
On several of the heavy doors is still clinging the 
red wax of the official seal placed by the revolution- 
ary officers. The ehanoine's crucifix is there, a grace- 
ful silver affair darkly oxidized from long burying, 
he having hid it in the garden. In the raids on the 
property nearly all the furniture was taken, and for 
many years the peasants were said to account for 
new pieces of furniture in their neighbors' houses by 
saying, "Oh, it came from Le Clos." Some time 
after the Revolution, M. Champagneux, who married 
Eudora, the daughter of Madame Roland, received a 
notice from the cure at Theize that a sum of "con- 
science money " had been given him for the family. 



COUNTRY LIFE 



Life must have been then at Le Clos — a hun- 
dred years ago — much what it is now, — a busy, 
peaceful round of usefulness and kindliness, of gen- 
erous hospitality, of unaffected intelligence. Ma- 
dame Roland entered it with sentiments kindled 
by Rousseau. Her imagination had never been 
more actively at work than it had over the pros- 
pect of this country retirement. She had shed 
tears over the prospect of their future Clarens, 
its bucolic pleasures, the delicious meditations, the 
sweet effusions of friendship, the healthy duties. 
And Le Clos realized many of her dreams; largely 
because she took hold of the practical life of the 
house and farm with good- will and intelligence. 
She was no woman to allow work to master her, 
— she managed it. Nor was she weak enough to 
fret under it or to regard it as "beneath her." She 
respected this most dignified and useful of woman's 
employments and gave it intelligence and good-will. 
This acceptance of and cheerfulness over common 
duties is one of the really strong things about 
Madame Roland. 

Some of the prettiest passages in her letters of 
this period are of her homely duties. She kept the 
accounts, directed the servants, interested herself in 
every detail of farm and house. She used her scien- 
tific acquirements practically for the benefit of Le 
Clos and its neighbors. Bosc she continually ap- 
plied to for information. Now it was a remedy, 
"sure and easy," against the bites of the viper, of 



100 MADAME BOLAND 

which there were many in the country — and they 
still exist; now for the caterpillars which were troub- 
ling the apples; again it was against an enemy of 
her artichokes that she demanded, as a service to 
the province, a remedy. 

She took a lively interest in agricultural discus- 
sions, and many were the flowers, from the rich flora 
of Le Clos, which she sent her friend to analyze, or 
for a confirmation of her own analysis. 

Her devotion to her neighbors was genuine. In 
her Memoirs she speaks with pride of their love for 
her, and this was no meaningless recollection. Con- 
stantly in her letters there was question of service 
rendered to this or that one, and we see that it was 
not without reason that her husband was worried 
lest she make herself ill in caring for the domestics 
of Le Clos and the peasants of Boitier and Theize*. 

She did more than care for them and instruct 
them, — she set them a good example. Especially 
in religious matters was she careful to do this. 
One who has climbed the long steep hill from Le 
Clos to the church at Theize, has a genuine respect 
for the unselfishness of a woman who would get out 
of bed at six o'clock in the morning for her neigh- 
bor's sake, — " climbing up the rocks," she called it. 
This she did, though Le Clos possessed its own 
chapel where the curd came to say the Mass. 

She exercised a delightful hospitality. Le Clos 
was always open for their friends. Lanthenas spent 
much of his time there, and one of the apartments 



COUNTRY LIFE 101 



still is called by his name. Bosc she was always 
urging to come, and she drew him many a pretty 
picture of their summer companies. There was now 
and then a friend of Bosc, from Paris, who sought 
them ; for in those days of stage-coaches one had 
time to stop over en route. There were foreign 
and French savants who had heard of Roland and 
came to pay their respects, and there were the 
country counts and abbes. 

And there were amusements besides — an occa- 
sional petit bal given by a locataire, where she 
danced "and contre-danced," and, in spite of her 
thirty-one years, only retired at midnight from 
"wisdom and not from satiety." And there was 
the watch-meeting which she kept with her people, 
and the vogue, as the Beaujolais people call their 
provincial fetes. Le Clos had one peculiar to itself 
— a vogue existing to-day. 

It is one of the events of the year at Theize* — 
this vogue — on Ascension Sunday and Monday. 
The place is invaded the day before for prepara- 
tion : a stand is put up for the musicians ; the wine 
rooms are cleared out for the lunch tables; the 
trees and walls are decorated ; outside the gate, too, 
before night there is sure to establish itself one of 
the travelling lotteries which infest France. 

The morning of Ascension Day there comes, be- 
tween masses, a committee headed by a band to 
take possession of the place and present the fete 
to Madame. After dinner come the merry-makers, 



102 MADAME ROLAND 

— young and old from all the country round; a 
friendly, pleasant company who dance and walk 
and talk, only quitting their sports long enough for 
the traditional service of cutting the brioche, — a 
ceremony which begins with a grave promenade of 
the big cake around the premises, fanfare ahead. 
This done, the chief of the vogue, in the midst of a 
respectful silence from all the two or three hundred 
peasants looking on, cuts the cake with a flourish 
so solemn that it would be worthy of a sacrifice, 
and passes around the pieces among the guests. 

The brioches eaten, they dance again, and that 
until after the night falls and the stars come out and 
the children and the old people go home — a grave 
dance now and silent; for the night, the wind in 
the trees, the simpler music too changes the gay and 
romping mood of the afternoon to one of dreaminess 
and silence. But Monday they come back gayer 
than ever and the dance and romp do not end until, 
late in the evening, Madame declares the vogue over. 

In this life at Le Clos Madame Poland's most 
serious occupation was the education of her daughter 
Eudora. She evidently hoped to find in her little 
girl a second Manon Phlipon, — an infant prodigy in 
sentiment and taste. She discovered early that 
Eudora was a rollicking, mischievous, saucy 3 r oung- 
ster, who would rather frolic than study and who 
liked to play with her doll better than to read Plu- 
tarch. She was in despair over this lack of feeling. 
At the least sign of sentiment she wrote to her hus- 



COUNTRY LIFE 103 



band or to Bosc, but as a rule she could only complain 
of the indifference of the little miss. 

She had begun by nursing her baby, — Rousseau 
demands it, — but when she came back from her 
favor-seeking at Paris the child — three years old — 
did not recognize her. " I am like the women who 
do not nurse their children ; I have done better than 
they but I am no farther advanced." At Le Clos 
she became thoroughly discouraged and decided to 
take up Rousseau again and study JEmile and Julie 
on the education of children. She arrived at certain 
conclusions and as she was about to write her hus- 
band of them one day received a letter from him 
containing similar reflections. She replied with her 
full plan. The letter, hitherto unpublished, is very 
sensible. 

" What a pleasure to find that we are one in our 
ideas as in our feelings, and for one never to have a 
plan that the other has not already thought of. For 
the last twenty-four hours I have been trying the 
method that you suggest with our little one. I had 
re-read Julie's plan, and I had decided that we were 
too far away from it. Controlled by circumstances, 
we have either thought too much or not enough of 
our child. Busy in a kind of work which demands 
quiet, we have kept her at her tasks and her les- 
sons, without taking time to cultivate a taste in 
her for them, or of choosing the times when she was 
the most disposed for them. When she has rebelled, 
and we have wanted her to be quiet, we have been 



104 MADAME BOLAND 

willing to do anything to silence her, so that we 
could go on with our work. 

" ' That which makes children cry,' Julie says, ' is 
the attention that is paid to them. It is only neces- 
sary to let them cry all day, a few times, without pay- 
ing any attention to them, to cure them of the habit. 
If one pets them or threatens them, it has no effect. 
The more attention that you give to their tears, 
the more reason they have for continuing them. 
They will break themselves of the habit very soon 
when they see that no one takes notice; for, great 
and small, no one cares to give himself useless 
trouble.' There, my good friend, is where we have 
been wrong. Julie's children were happy and peace- 
able under her eyes, but they were subject to no 
one and only obliged to allow others the same liberty 
they enjoyed themselves. 

" We want to be left in peace ; that is just, but 
sometimes we constrain our child, and she takes her 
revenge as she can. Moreover, there is no use deny- 
ing it, our little one has a strong will, and she has no 
sensibility and no taste. It must be that this is, in 
part, our fault, and because we have not known how 
to direct her. More than that, we risk making a 
still greater mistake in conquering her by force or by 
fear, though we have believed that it could be done 
in no other way. In acting thus, we are going to be 
unhappy, and our child is going to develop a hard 
and an unendurable obstinacy. 

" I have resolved : first, never to get angry, and 



COUNTRY LIFE 105 



always to be calm and cold as justice itself when it 
comes to a question of correction. 

" Second, never to use either whip or blow, move- 
ment or tone, which show impatience. Blows of 
whatever kind seem to me odious. They harden, 
debase, and prevent the birth of sentiment. On this 
score we have been guilty. When, as an infant, 
Eudora put her hands on something that she ought 
not to have touched, and did not take them off at 
the first word, it seemed to us that a little blow on 
her rebellious hand might have good effect. But 
that little blow has led to the whip ; the child has 
become a torment, and we are annoyed by it ; that 
little blow was a great mistake ; it is time that we 
began over again, and we have not a moment to lose. 

" Third, the child must be happier with us than with 
any one else ; it is a question then of making her time 
pass more pleasantly when she is in our presence than 
it does elsewhere. That would not be very difficult 
if the mother was sewing or at housework, was free to 
talk with her sometimes and to teach her little tasks. 
In a library, between two desks, where severe re- 
search is going on and where silence is necessary, it 
is quite natural that the child grow weary; above all, 
if she is forbidden to sing or to chatter, and cannot 
play with any one. 

" None of those persons who have written treatises 
on education have considered the student or those of 
a similar profession ; they have treated the father or 
the mother as occupied solely in carrying out their 



106 MADAME nOLAKD 

duties, everything else being set aside for them. But 
the case is different here ; you must carry on your 
work, and I am only too happy to aid you in it. I 
am a wife as well as a mother, and was the one before 
becoming the other. 

" Let us try, then, while at our desks to have our 
child with us, and to see to it that she is happy 
beside us. For that we must leave her free as much 
as possible. If nature has not fitted he* for study, 
let us not insist. Let us form her character as well 
as we can, and let the rest come by inspiration, not, 
by punishment or caresses. Let us hold ourselves to 
these rules, and I am sure that the child will soon 
feel the justice and the necessity as well as the effect 
of our tenderness. 

" For three days now I have not compelled her to 
do anything. She reads five or six times a day to 
amuse herself, and she seems to think that it is a 
good act. Without entirely lending myself to her 
little hypocrisy, I nevertheless pretend to be partially, 
at least, her dupe. In the evening she begs for music*, 
and I make a thousand excuses in order to have the? 
lesson short, gay, and easy. The great thing is obedi- 
ence. There have been scenes, I have punished heir 
and she has wept ; but I have pretended not to notice 
it, and have gone on with my work in perfect indif- 
ference. She has been obliged to stop some time, 
and it has never been very long." 

The success was something, for by another spring, 
when the little one was "six years six months and 



COUNTRY LIFE 107 



two days old," she had commenced to dislike being 
blamed as much as she did being put on dry bread ; 
she loved a caress better than her doll ; reading 
amused her when she had nothing better to do ; and 
she loved to write and dance, — neither of which 
fatigued her head, — but could not endure a story 
which was more than a half hour long ; and was still 
" a hundred leagues from Robinson." 

Madame Roland's return to Rousseau was not con- 
fined to his system of education. She went back to 
him at this time for inspiration. In going to Le Clos 
she had an ideal, — Julie at Clarens. Probably she 
found that in practice there was much more hard 
work and patient endurance in her Clarens than 
there were pastorals and sweet emotions. Much as 
she approved these stern virtues, considered ab- 
stractly, they aroused less enthusiasm when applied, 
and she sought her prophet ; not without reward, for 
again and again she wrote Roland of her delight : 

" I have been devouring Julie as if it were not for 
the fourth or fifth time. My friend, I shall always 
love that book, and if I ever become devote, it is the 
only one I shall desire. It seems to me that we 
could have lived well with all those people and that 
they would have found us as much to their taste as 
we them to ours." 

And again after an evening in the chimney corner 
with Rousseau : " I shall read him all my life, and if 
ever we should be in that condition of which we no> 
longer think, when you, old and blind, make shoe- 



108 MADAME EOLANB 

laces while I do needle-work, all the books I shall 
want will be those of Jean Jacques. He would make 
us shed delicious tears and would arouse sentiments 
which would make us forget our lot." 

" Delicious tears " are as always her gauge of hap- 
piness. She never learned that the amount of living 
one is doing, cannot always be measured by the 
emotion one experiences. 

In the days at Villefranche and Le Clos, Roland 
was as dear to her as ever. She served him with 
touching devotion, finding her greatest delight in 
being useful to him. The long and tiresome extracts 
on wool and hides, bleaching and tanning, were never 
too long and tiresome for her to copy, in her vigorous, 
beautiful hand ; the numerous academic papers and 
public pamphlets never too numerous for her to apply 
all her literary skill and her enthusiasm to polishing 
and brightening. She arranged everything to make 
his life easy and to advance his work, and her affection 
was poured out as freely as in the days before their 
marriage. He is the "friend par excellence." "I 
love you madly and I am disposed to snap my fin- 
gers at the rest," she told him. Her letter-writing, in 
his absence, she calls " the dearest of her occupations," 
and it must have been, to judge from the following 
letter written seven years after her marriage : 

"I had told to go after it [Roland's letter]. 

I awaited it in vain all the evening. He had for- 
gotten to go. I sent him again when I sat down to 
supper. While I ate I waited, my heart was troubled. 



COUNTRY LIFE 109 



The servant seemed to me to be gone a long time. 
My heart jumped at every noise I heard at the door. 
Overcome, I said : News from him was never dearer, 
never awaited with more tender impatience. I 
scarcely heard what brother said and I answered 
yes at random. It was worse still when the package 
came. My heart went out to it beforehand. I ex- 
amined the writing with strange haste, I opened it, 
I read. The mutual sentiment which inspires us 
leaves me incapable of feeling anything else. I 
scarcely spoke the rest of the evening." 

Unquestionably she believed in the endurance of 
this affection for Roland, so far as there is any indi- 
cation in her letters. Perhaps something of the 
secret of the peculiar tenderness between Madame 
Roland and her husband at this time was that Roland 
was but little at home. Where the imagination has 
the habit of idealizing situations and persons, it is 
difficult to quiet it — it must have its craving sat- 
isfied. But no idealized object will resist long the 
friction of every-day life and the disillusion which is 
inevitable from constant association. Madame Ro- 
land never ceased her habit of idealization, but, fortu- 
nately, her life with Roland was so broken by his 
repeated absences that her imagination did still find 
pleasure in busying itself with him. 

For several years after they went to Beaujolais 
there was but one break in this busy life for Madame 
Roland, — a trip to Switzerland taken in 1787 with her 



110 MADAME ROLAND 



husband and her brother-in-law, the Curd of Long- 
point. She wrote full notes of her trip for Eudora, as 
she had done of her trip to England. They were 
printed by Champagneux in the year 1800. They are 
less spontaneous than those on England, following 
almost entirely Roland's letters of ten years before. 
This trip into Switzerland was to have been followed 
by one to Italy, which never was taken. 

And so their life went on from 1784 to 1T89. On the 
whole, it was happy, as it certainly was useful and 
honorable. To be sure, they were not quite satisfied. 
They still felt keenly that the title and privileges 
they had asked had been refused, and they still cher- 
ished hopes of being retired. Madame Roland, espe- 
cially, kept the matter in view and worked to bring it 
about; thus, in September of 1787 we find her direct- 
ing Roland: "Write to the bear and pay him the 
compliment of your encyclopedic work. I have im- 
agined a little letter of which I send you the idea. To 
flatter a person's pretensions is a means of capturing 
his good-will. If it is true that he has a mistress, 
Lanthenas must unearth her, as well as the sides on 
which she is accessible. They will be convenient 
notes to have in the portfolio, and can be used as one 
does certain drugs in desperate cases." 

On the whole, Madame Roland was very well off, 
and her life would undoubtedly have gone on thus to 
the end, broken after a while, perhaps, with the much 
desired pension ; perhaps, by even the title of nobility ; 
she then would have had the "paradise" she so much 



COUNTRY LIFE 111 



desired — " the pretty apartment in town and a bijou 
at Le Clos"; she might, on the other hand, have 
had her sad sentimental picture realized and Roland, 
blind, have made shoe-laces and she done needle-work, 
while they both shed delicious tears over Rousseau, 
had there not been something in the air which was 
about to take away all from him that had and to give 
it to him who had not ; to make leaders of country 
lawyers, and doctors, and schoolmasters, and to send 
the diplomats and courtiers a-begging. 

The French Revolution was coming, and to trace 
briefly how it grew in the Lyonnais and how our 
friends in particular regarded it and were drawn to 
side with it, is our next affair. 



HOW THE ROLANDS "WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 

"TWTONSIEUR and Madame Roland had both, 
throughout their lives, been intelligent ob- 
servers and critics of, as well as, to a degree, sufferers 
from, the financial and social causes of the French 
Revolution. They had both sympathized with the 
preliminary outbreaks of that revolution which, be- 
ginning early in the century, had recurred at intervals 
throughout their lives. They both had thoroughly 
imbibed the intellectual causes of the movement, 
those new ideas of Voltaire, Diderot, Helve'tius, Abbd 
Raynal, Rousseau, which, coming after the first agi- 
tation, — there had been many a riot in Paris, in 
Lyons, in Rouen ; the King had been warned many 
a time that there were still Ravaillacs ; the word 
Revolution had been often spoken by the French of 
the eighteenth century before these men wrote, — had 
backed up the revolutionist with philosophy and 
logic. 

Roland was but ten years old, a boy in the Lyon- 
nais, when the war with Austria caused so much 
misery, and when a new Iqyj of men and the doubling 

112 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 113 

of the taxes desolated and irritated the province. 
Lyons was obliged to contribute two million livres at 
that time to aid the King. He was seventeen when, in 
1751, the misery again became so terrible that riots 
occurred throughout France, and D'Argenson wrote : 
"Nothing but a near revolution is talked of on ac- 
count of the bad condition of the government." 
These things could not but have affected him. 
Indeed, the bad outlook at Lyons was one reason 
that he left home with the idea of making his fortune 
in America. As a boy, then, Roland had felt the 
financial errors of the French government. 

He was at Rouen when, in 1756, the Seven Years' 
War broke out. At that moment the annual receipts 
of the State were two hundred and fifty-three mil- 
lion livres, the expenses between three hundred and 
twenty and three hundred and thirty millions. That 
year Roland saw the people obliged to pay a twentieth 
of their revenue — the detested vingtieme. No one 
was exempt, and no doubt the bill fell heavily on the 
manufacturing interests. This tax was in addition to 
the taille, which tormented the small proprietors of 
the country, and from which the nobles and clergy 
were free. In addition were the special taxes of 
which Roland must have felt the injury especially, 
both in the Lyonnais and at Rouen. These included 
the aides, or tax on drinks ; the octroi, at the* gate of 
every city ; the salt tax ; the special duties on iron, 
leather, and paper ; the impost on tobacco, cards, 
and oils; the custom duties at the frontier of every 



114 MADAME ROLAND 

province of France, as well as at the frontier of the 
kingdom. 

Two years later at Rouen, 1758, Roland no doubt 
felt the effect in his personal expenses of the result 
x)i the gift which the city, in common with all the 
cities, boroughs, and seignioralties of the kingdom, 
was obliged to pay to help on the war, and to meet 
which they received permission to put a tax on all 
drinks, on meat, hay, and wood. When one has to 
pay more for his wood and fire, he reflects why. 

Two years later the Parlement of Rouen, in com- 
mon with several others of the kingdom, flatly re- 
fused to register the royal edicts creating new taxes, 
declaring, with a hardihood superior even to that of 
the Parlement of Paris, that the system of taxation 
was unjust, and the people the victims of royal abuse, 
and suggesting audaciously a parlement of France 
composed of all the parlements of the kingdom. So 
eloquent and so free was this declaration that it was 
even printed and sold in Paris. 

Roland's position made him familiar with all these 
revolts; he heard them discussed as well as the 
King's haughty, energetic reply to the deputation 
of the Parlement. "I am your master. I ought to 
punish you for the impudence of your principles. 
Go back to Rouen, register my decrees and declara- 
tion without further delay. I will be obeyed." 

He was touched, no doubt, by the remonstrance 
which the same body sent to the King in 1763: 
" Your people, Sire, is unhappy. Everything shows 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 115 

this sad fact. Your parlements, the only organs of 
the nation, repeat it unceasingly. ... A deluge of, 
taxes pitilessly ravages our towns and our provinces ; 
the property, the industry, the person of citizens, all 
are a prey to these extraordinary imposts; poverty 
itself, and the charity which aids it, have become 
its tributaries and its victims. The farming out of 
the aides, whose rules attack all conditions and com- 
merce in general, weighs on the poor in a most 
inhuman manner. The farming of the salt-tax pre- 
sents a spectacle not less revolting." 

At Amiens, as inspector of manufactures, Roland 
had a still better opportunity to see the defects of 
the financial and commercial system of France. At 
that time, in almost all the villages of the kingdom, 
the exercise of the different arts and trades was con- 
centrated in the hands of a small number of mas- 
ters, united in trades-unions, who alone could make 
and sell certain objects. The man who wished to 
enter a trade could only do so by acquiring a mai- 
trise. To do this he must go through a long and 
painful apprenticeship and spend much money to 
satisfy the numerous imposts and exactions. Fre- 
quently a large part of the sum which he needed 
for setting up his shop or store was consumed in 
acquiring his license. Certain unions excluded all 
but sons of masters, or those who had married the 
widows of masters; others rejected all who were 
born in another town — foreigners, as they called 
them. In a number of the unions a married man 



116 MADAME BOLANB 

could not be an apprentice. To practise his trade 
after having served his apprenticeship, a linen-dealer 
must pay twenty-one hundred livres ; a dyer, thir- 
teen hundred and fifty; a mason, seventeen hundred; 
a butcher, fifteen hundred ; a potter, twenty-four hun- 
dred ; and so on through all the trades of the com- 
munity. One could not work if he would, unless 
the union gave him permission, and all classes of 
citizens were obliged to submit to the dictation of 
the unions as to whom they should hire. So narrow 
was the spirit of these organizations that women 
were not allowed to carry on even such industries 
as embroidery. 

Worse, in Roland's eyes, were the restrictions on 
the way in which an article was to be manufactured. 
These were so numerous that industrial genius and 
initiative were practically prevented, that the manu- 
facturer could not respond to the demands of fash- 
ion and of taste, and that competition with foreign 
trade was largely cut off. He could make only cer- 
tain stuffs. The dimensions were fixed; the dyeing 
and stamping must follow a certain formula ; they 
must bear a certain mark. If by any accident, in- 
tentional or not, a stuff was turned out which did 
not conform exactly to the rules, the severest pen- 
alty was fixed. A system of inspection, most irri- 
tating and frequently unjust, was made of every 
piece of goods ; even houses with long reputation for 
honest manufacturing were subjected to this exam- 
ination, which was sometimes little more than a kind 



WELCOMED THE BEVOLUTION 117 

of spying exercised by young and incapable men 
who had no commercial training. A grave injustice 
was according the title of manufacture royale as a 
favor, or often, to new institutions, for a sum. 

Roland clashed constantly with these regulations 
throughout his term in Amiens. 

Mademoiselle Phlipon had likewise, in the days 
before her marriage, been influenced by public affairs. 
She was in a centre where the populace throbbed 
continually. A stone's throw from her house the 
Parlement sat, and its every act was a sign for popu- 
lar joy or discontent. There could be no demonstra- 
tion without its passing largely under her windows. 
From the first days of her life, then, her political 
education commenced. A child of less intellectual 
curiosity and of less sensibility would not have re- 
sponded to these popular outbursts. They would 
have made but fleeting impressions. It was different 
with her ; she watched it all, felt the rage or joy of 
the people, and brooded over its meaning. There is, 
indeed, no more fascinating study in her life than the 
influence which the panorama of the Pont Neuf and 
the Place Dauphine had upon her. 

When she was eight years old she saw the smoke 
of burning volumes, as she looked from her window 
towards the Place de la Greve. It was Rousseau's 
Emile going up in smoke. Every year after she 
saw the same suggestive sight. Now it was remon- 
strances against interferences by the King with the 
rights of the Parlement which were burned ; now the 



118 MADAME BOLAND 

seditious utterances of the independent parlements 
of Bretagne, of Rouen, of Dauphind; now a too 
liberal general history of the present condition of 
Europe, translated from the English ; now too bold 
reflections on feudal rights; now Voltaire's Diction- 
naire pliilosophique ; now Holbach ; now Raynal ; 
now Helve* tius. In 1775 she heard La Harpe ad- 
monished " to be more circumspect in the future," 
because of a daring article he had published. These 
condemned authors she was beginning to read. 

She began to hear from her earliest days the word 
revolution. It had been pronounced frequently for a 
long time in private, but it began to be said aloud. 
When she was nine years old, a Paris priest declared : 
" We approach a state of crisis and an age of revo- 
lutions. I believe it impossible that the great mon- 
archies of Europe endure long." The priest was 
condemned at the Chatelet across the river from her 
window, but his discourse was printed and scattered 
right and left. She heard gossip of how the Parle- 
ment had told the King that Frenchmen are free men 
and not slaves; and a little later it is quite possible 
that she saw the King on his way to the Palais de 
Justice, where, under the very eyes of the Parle- 
ment, he erased their rebellious decree, and declared: 
"It is in my person alone that the sovereign power 
exists ; it is from me alone that my courts have their 
existence and their authority ; it is to me alone that 
independent and indivisible legislative power be- 
longs ; public order emanates entirely from me." 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 119 

In 1770 she saw bread riots and seditious pam- 
phlets posted in Paris. In January, 1771, came the 
dissolution and exile of the Parlement because of its 
refusal to record Louis XV.'s humiliating decree abro- 
gating its power and condemning its conduct. Little 
Manon saw a surging crowd of Parisians filling the 
palace and its neighborhood — a crowd in which, 
wrote one who watched it, " there was sometimes a 
dull silence, as in times of great calamities ; some- 
times a noise and a murmur like that which precedes 
great revolutions." 

She saw the new and detested body — organ of the 
King's despotism — sitting in a veritable camp, and the 
walls of the palace covered with abusive inscriptions. 
She read, too, many of the hardy pamphlets which 
flooded the country after this despotic coup d'etat. 
In them the doctrine of power residing in one indi- 
vidual was roundly attacked; the divine authority of 
kings was denied flatly, and the Constitution of Eng- 
land, with the example of 1688, was held up to the 
country. We know she followed the exciting seven 
months of the trial of Beaumarchais and Goezmann. 
When Louis XVI. came to the throne, she shared 
the general joy at his promises, and doubtless felt 
that it was a true prophet who printed resurrexit on 
the statue of Henry IV., in front of her door. 

When in the next year the bread riots began and 
across the river the people pillaged the markets, she 
saw much of the disorder, — people dancing with 
joy over a loaf they had secured ; guards about the 



MADJJ£E BOLASI) 

bakeries to give the bakers an opportunity properly 
to bake the bread: hungry men waiting with their 
eight sons, taking the loaves from the very oven: 
shops closed in terror, as the rioters moved from 
quarter to quarter. 

Marrie:!. :Le Rzl^ziis s?.-v rorrtlri :■'! :'_e r-.buses 
of the realm and aided in the struggles against them. 
The fiist "ear of their married life Roland labored 
in vain at Paris with the committee which the Kin g 
had summoned from the manufacturing centres :: 
France, to obtain greater freedom in the industries, 
and was forced to go back to Amiens with a list of 
vexatious restrictions still encumbering all varieties 
of manufacturing. 

After their marriage they were constantly cramped 
for money, for Roland's salary was very small, and 
he had but few privileges in connection with his 
position. For instance, when Madame Roland was 
in Paris in 1754 seeking the letters of nob:.::", she 
was forced :: guard her expenses with the greatest 
care ; to avoid taking fiaeres as often as possible, and 
to take cheap seats at the thearir. In the Beanjo- 
lais she had been forced to give up going to Lyons 
often, on account of the expense of life there, to stay 
much at Lr . and to administer her household 
with greatest economy. 

These was no complaint on their part because of 
their poverty, but there was dissatisfaction with the 
system which did not reward properly a man who 
had given his life to the interests of his country, and 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 121 

had produced numbers of valuable works, while it 
took up insignificant individuals, and, through favor- 
itism or for a round bribe, gave them easy and amply 
paid positions, and allowed them to keep them what- 
ever they did or did not do ; a system which, in short, 
justified Beaumarchais' characterization : " II fallait 
un calculateur pour remplir la place, ce fut un dan- 
seur qui l'obtint." (An accountant was wanted in 
the place, a dancer received it.) 

After the Rolands left Amiens, they came into 
personal contact with the feudal rights; for in the 
Beaujolais the peasant was still often obliged to give 
personal service to his lord. It was to the lord's 
wine -press he was obliged to take his grapes, to his 
mill that he must take his wheat. They saw the 
effect of the wretched salt-tax, an indirect tax which 
forced every inhabitant to buy seven pounds of salt 
a year, and it cost eight times what it does to-day, 
considering the value of money. Not only was he 
forced to buy, he was forced to use it in certain ways, 
— not a grain of that seven pounds could be employed 
anywhere except in his table food. If he wanted to 
salt pork, he must buy another kind. 

They probably saw, in their rides to and from 
Lyons, the peasants bent at their corvSe, or road tax ; 
for the peasants still made the royal roads in the Lyon- 
nais. On an average, they gave twelve days a year, 
and the use of their own implements, to the high- 
ways which they rarely had the advantage of using. 
The terrible tolls were another unjust imposition 



122 MADAME ROLAND 

from which they suffered personally. They were in- 
numerable. Let a boat of wine attempt to go from 
Dauphine, by the Rhone, Loire, and the canal of 
Briare, and it paid thirty-five to forty kinds of duties, 
not counting the entree to Paris. From Pontarlier 
to Lyons there were twenty-five or thirty tolls. If 
Madame Roland had bought ten cents worth of 
wine in Burgundy, it would have cost her fifteen 
to eighteen sous before she got it to Lyons. 

Another experience which intensified their disgust 
with the ancien rSgime was the study of the affairs of 
Lyons. In a report made, in 1791, on the condition 
of the city, Roland showed how Lyons, after having 
been for a long time one of the most flourishing 
cities of the world, because of her active and pe- 
culiar industries, and having earned a world-wide 
credit, attracted the attention of the government, 
at that time completely corrupt. The State forced 
the city to compromise her industries and credit 
in order to lend money. She borrowed again and 
again, and gave in return the saddest, most ruinous 
compensation, — the permission to tax herself. This 
had gone on until Lyons was bankrupt, her indus- 
tries ruined, her streets full of beggars. 

This condition of finances and society they had 
long seen, as had the whole country, must be 
changed or there would be an upheaval. They 
had even calculated on this change when Madame 
Roland was soliciting the letters of nobility at Paris, 
and the probability that when it came something 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 123 

would fall to them. Like all France, it was in a re- 
form of the finances that they saw hope, and it was 
that which they demanded. They did not believe 
that France was hopelessly involved, but were con- 
fident that she could extricate herself by severe 
economies in the administration, by cutting off 
favoritism, by arranging a just system of taxes. 
Up to 1789 that was all that was demanded. 

Like all France, they participated in those out- 
bursts of joy which swept over the country at vari- 
ous periods in the reigns of Louis XV. and Louis 
XVL, when ministers of force and wisdom devised 
relief. 

The call for the States-General, in 1788, interested 
them more deeply than ever in the reforms needed ; 
the effort of the Parlement of Paris to prevent the 
Third Estate naming as many members as the nobil- 
ity and clergy together, and to prevent their sitting 
together aroused them. When, however, in spite 
of all opposition, the King issued the edict allowing 
the Third Estate double representation and called 
for the election of members to, and the preparation 
of cahiers for, the coming gathering, the Kolands 
went to work with energy. It was on the prepara- 
tion of the cahiers 1 sent to the States-General by the 
Third Estate of Lyons that Roland was principally 
occupied, and it was with hopefulness that he saw 

1 Memorials prepared by each of the three classes, setting forth 
their grievances, their demands, and the compromises they were 
willing to make. 



124 MADAME ROLAND 

the deputies and the memorials depart for Versailles, 
where, on May 4th, the twelve hundred representa- 
tives of the nation met to begin the work of restor- 
ing order in France and of making a constitution. 

At Le Clos the Rolands watched eagerly every act 
of the States-General, of the King, and of the people. 
But the drama played in Paris and at Versailles 
between May 4th and July 14th, turned their hope- 
fulness to despair, their gratitude to suspicion, their 
generosity to resentment, their pliability to obstinacy. 

Suddenly, on July 14th, the Parisians, terrified at 
the rumors of a conspiracy on the part of the Court 
which had for its object the overthrow of the pet 
minister, Necker, the adjournment of the National 
Assembly, the abandonment of reforms, and the co- 
ercion of the people by the foreign soldiers who had 
been massed in and around the capitol, razed the 
Bastille. 

With the falling of the Bastille a new ideal arose, 
full- winged, before Madame Roland. Before the 
14th of July she had no idea that out of the events 
she watched so eagerly anything more than a reform 
of the existing regime would grow ; the old regime, 
stripped of its abuses and regulated by a liberal con- 
stitution, was all she had asked. Now all was 
changed ; compromise, half-way measures, were at an 
end. Instead of reforms she demanded "complete 
regeneration." She saw in the sudden uprising of 
the people the "sovereign" exercising "the divine 
right of insurrection." It was what Jean Jacques 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 125 

Rousseau had declared in the Social Contract the 
people had the right to do if the government under 
which they were living was unjust. She seems to 
have gone at once to the conclusion that, since the 
rightful "sovereign," had at last asserted itself, an 
immediate regeneration was to follow, abuses were to 
be wiped out, tyranny destroyed, selfishness annihi- 
lated, equality created, and the world to run at last 
with precision and to the satisfaction of all concerned. 
To her the fall of the Bastille was the revolution of 
society. " Friends of humanity, lovers of liberty," 
she wrote afterwards, "we believed it had come to 
regenerate the human kind, to destroy the terrible 
misery of that unhappy class over which we had so 
often mourned. We welcomed it with transports." 

Their transports soon turned to irritation ; for the 
immediate regeneration she had pictured was replaced 
by struggles more fierce than ever before. 

To those of her liberal aspirations, determined on 
a constitutional government, recognizing the sover- 
eignty of the people and the equality of men, two 
political courses were open at that moment. They 
could unite with the liberal party of reform in a 
struggle to frame a constitution ; could insist while 
this was doing upon respect for the National Assem- 
bly ; could recognize the difficulty of the situation ; 
could respect the laws and be patient ; — or they could 
refuse alliance with this party on the ground that 
reforms were no longer the need of France, but that 
complete regeneration must be demanded ; could sus- 



126 MADAME BOLANB 

pect, and induce others to suspect, the sincerity of all 
those who applied the doctrines less vigorously than 
they did ; could encourage by excuses or tacit sym- 
pathy the riotous party which with incredible fe- 
cundity was spreading over France, explaining its 
actions as the lawful efforts of the sovereign people 
to get rid of its oppressors and to take possession of 
its own rights. 

Madame Roland did not approve of the first party. 
It attempted nothing but reforms. She wanted every 
vestige of the old regime wiped out. She suspected 
it, hated it. It had proved itself unworthy and must 
be abolished. The real sovereign must be allowed 
to prepare a government. She had no particular 
idea of what this government should be ; certainly 
she did not suggest a republic. She was convinced, 
however, that it would be a simple matter to arrange 
something where happiness and justice and prosperity 
should be the lot of all. 

To obtain this ideal condition she believed riot 
and civil war justifiable ; indeed she believed them 
necessary now that the fall of the Bastille had not 
been enough. They were necessary to keep the 
usurper in terror and the people suspicious. For her 
part, even if she were a woman and for that reason 
excluded from public activities, she meant to keep 
her friends aroused to the necessity of insurrection. 

There is no doubt that the policy of Roland in the 
Revolution and the relations which he formed and 
which shaped his course of action were due to this 



WELCOMED THE BEVOLUTION 127 

determination of Madame Roland to use her influ- 
ence in agitation. All their contemporaries remark 
her ascendency over her husband. But she did not 
content herself with inspiring Roland. The two 
friends with whom she had been so long in regu- 
lar correspondence, Bosc and Lanthenas, she strove, 
with all her eloquence, to urge to action. " I write 
you now but little of personal affairs. Who is the 
traitor who has other interest to-day than that of the 
nation?" Once Bosc wrote her a story of an inter- 
esting adventure ; she replied : " I do not know whether 
you are in love or not ; but I do know this, that in 
the situation where we now are, no honest man can 
follow the torch of love without having first lit it at 
the sacred fire of country." She formed new political 
relations — the first, with Brissot de Warville, was of 
particular importance to them. 

The Rolands had had a slight correspondence with 
Brissot before the Revolution ; for he, having been 
attracted by Roland's writings, had sent him certain 
of his manuscripts as a mark of his esteem. This 
had led to an exchange of courteous letters, and, 
through one of their common friends in Paris, the 
relation was still further cemented, and a regular cor- 
respondence had grown up. When the Revolution 
came, Brissot started Le patriote frangais and the 
Rolands sent him "all," said Madame Roland, "which, 
under the circumstances, seemed to us to be useful to 
publish." A large number of these letters were pub- 
lished in the Patriote frangais. 



128 MADAME BOLAND 

It was not only in Paris that her letters inspired 
by their ardent patriotism. They were in relation 
with a young man at Lyons, called Champagneux. 
The 1st of September, 1789, he started the Courrier 
de Lyon, a journal something in the style of Brissot's, 
intended to preach the principles of 1789, and to show 
what was passing in the National Assembly. Madame 
Roland wrote often to this journal. 

The most important correspondence which she 
carried on at this time was with Bancal des Issarts, 
a lawyer, formerly of Clermont, who had left his 
profession for politics. Bancal had been a deputy 
to the National Assembly, and, after the closing of 
the session, had returned to Clermont, where he had 
established a society of Friends of the Constitution. 
Returning to Paris, he made the acquaintance of 
Lanthenas and the two had planned a community 
in which they wished to associate the Rolands. 
Their idea was to buy a quantity of national prop- 
erty and found a retreat where thej^ could together 
prosecute the work of regenerating France, while at 
the same time having the delights and the stimulus 
of intelligent companionship. 

Lanthenas introduced Bancal by letter to the 
Rolands, and a correspondence was at once begun. 
Madame Roland, as a rule, wrote for both her- 
self and her husband. Her letters are as patriotic 
and as passionately vindictive as those she wrote 
Bosc. 

At the same time she preached to her acquaintances 




MADAME ROLAND. 
From the painting by Heinsius in the museum of Versailles. 



WELCOMED THE BEVOLUTION 129 

at Villefranche and Le Clos, and solicited subscribers 
for Brissot's journal. 

There was nothing vague or uncertain about her 
position at this moment. Her convictions, her plan 
of action, had been taken. It was uncompromising, 
unflinching war against the existing government. 
Twelve days after the fall of the Bastille, she wrote 
to Bosc: "You are occupying yourself with a mu- 
nicipality, and you are letting heads escape that are 
going to conjure up new horrors. You are nothing 
but children ; your enthusiasm is a straw fire and if 
the National Assembly does not put on trial two 
illustrious heads, or some generous Decius does not 
take them, you are all mad." She made the demand 
because she did not believe in the King's and the 
Court's sincerity. Every action of theirs which was 
liberal, a concession to the popular party, she scoffed 
at. Of the appearance of the King and his beautiful 
Queen in the Assembly she wrote :* " They were 
abominably frightened, that is all the business shows. 
Before we can believe in the sincerity of their promise 
to agree to what the Assembly shall do, we must for- 
get all that has passed . . . the King must send 
away all the foreign troops . . . we are nearer than 
ever to a frightful slavery if we allow ourselves to be 
blinded by false confidence." 

Her dissatisfaction with the National Assembly 
was complete. She sneered at the emotion when 
Marie Antoinette appeared in their midst seeking 
protection : " The French are easily won by the fine 



130 MADAME ROLAND 

appearance of their masters, and I am persuaded 
that the half of the Assembly has been bete enough 
to be touched at the sight of Antoinette confiding 
her son to them. Morbleu ! is it then of a child of 
which it is a question ! It is the safety of twenty 
million men. All is lost if we do not take care." 
The constitution displeased her, too: "We blush in 
reading the public papers. They are plastering up 
a bad constitution just as they have botched an in- 
complete and faulty declaration. Am I not going 
to see a demand for the revision of all ? " 

She saw clearly that it was not from the people of 
France, as a whole, that she would get the revision of 
the constitution which she asked, or a second to her 
demand for the heads of the king and queen. " There 
is only one hope," she said, " it is in Paris. It is for 
you, Parisians, to give the example. By a wise and 
vigorous address show the Assembly that you know 
your rights, that you mean to preserve them, that 
you are ready to defend them, and that you demand 
that it declare them. Without such a movement 
all is worse than ever. It is not the Palais Royal 
which must do it ; it is the united districts. How- 
ever, if they do not respond, let it be done by whom- 
soever it may, provided it be in sufficient numbers to 
impose and to carry others by its example." She 
was even ready to go a little farther and did it cheer- 
fully : " A civil war is necessary before we shall be 
worth anything. All these little quarrels and insur- 
rections seem to me inevitable; I cannot imagine 



WELCOMED THE REVOLUTION 131 

that it is possible to come from the bosom of corrup- 
tion and rise to liberty, without strong convulsions. 
They are the salutary crises of a severe sickness, and 
a terrible political fever is necessary to take away 
our bad humors." 

Truly, there were few better Jacobins in 1793 than 
Madame Roland was two months after the fall of the 
Bastille ; for we have here in purity the doctrine of the 
sovereignty of the people, the divine right of insur- 
rection, the demand for the head of Louis XVI., the 
call to Paris to take into her hands what the people 
of the country are not ready to do, even to use its 
power of terrorism against the Assembly, composed 
of the representatives of the people. 

This spirit, this restless energy, never left her, 
though she was buried at Le Clos almost all the 
first eighteen months of the Revolution. She kept 
herself aflame by correspondence with her friends 
and by her propagandism among her neighbors, most 
of them decidedly recalcitrant. Especially did she 
incite herself by her reading. Writing to Bancal 
once she told him: "I have left all the Italian 
poets for the Tacitus of Davanzati. It is not per- 
mitted in a time of revolution to turn to pleasant 
studies, or objects remote from the public interest. 
If I can give a little time this winter to English, I 
shall read Macaulay's history. I shall leave the his- 
torian only for the novel of Rousseau, which is per- 
fectly suited to civism." 

She saw no danger in her doctrines. They moved 



132 MADAME ROLAND 

to noble sentiments, to great aspirations. What 
greater good ? That they incited to crimes, too, she 
did not admit. She was recklessly indifferent to 
what is; she looked only at what might be. Her 
eyes were turned to America, to Greece, to Rome, 
and not to the facts of the struggles of these coun- 
tries, only to the fine actions of their heroes, the 
rounded phrases of their orators. 

The reasonable girl who welcomed Louis XVI. to 
the throne, the politic woman who for years had been 
seeking a title and its advantages, and who had been 
willing to devote all her splendid power to reforming 
the old regime, had become suddenly inexorable in 
her demands, unyielding in her suspicions, fierce in 
her thought. She believed that one must " watch 
and preach to the last sigh or else not mingle with 
the Revolution." It was the revolt of the idealist 
against compromises made in the past; resentment 
for wrongs suffered ; the " strike back " for the title 
not granted, and for Roland's talent and services un- 
recognized ; the hope of realizing dreams of an ideal 
society. 

Nor was it a momentary enthusiasm. Her convic- 
tion never wavered. Others as firmly founded in 
the doctrines as she, and as eloquent in their defence 
of them, hesitated sometimes, drew back with appre- 
hension at the torrents of passion and of demagogy 
they were loosening on France. But she never ad- 
mitted that anything but " complete regeneration" 
could come of their teachings. It was the woman's 



WELCOMED TEE REVOLUTION 133 

nature which, stirred to its depths by enthusiasm or 
passion, becomes narrow, stern, unbending, — which 
can do but one thing, can see but one way ; that in- 
explicable feminine conviction which is superior to 
experience, and indifferent to logic. 



VI 

FIRST POLITICAL SALON 

f~pHE Rolands were not long in embroiling them- 
selves in Lyons and in the Beaujolais. Disor- 
ganization and disorder were increasing daily there, 
as in Paris and throughout the country. The aristoc- 
racy, clergy, and commercial portions of the com- 
munity, irritated at the failure of the government to 
restore tranquillity, and discouraged over the delay 
of the National Assembly in forcing its way through 
the difficulties of the situation, grew hard against 
the Revolution. There was a universal demand for 
order. Disorder grew from day to day. 

The conservative party was firmly convinced that 
the disorder was the fault of the friends of the Rev- 
olution. There was a suspicion of everybody who 
professed the new doctrines. Those who taught 
them were regarded as dangerous " agitators." The 
reforms to which they had consented, and which they 
had left to the National Assembly, would never be 
made, they felt, unless the people could be quieted. 
They saw a general and universal catastrophe await- 
ing society if organization was not restored. 

134 



FIBST POLITICAL SALON 135 

On the other hand, the liberals saw in the policy 
of the aristocrats and clergy a plot against the 
people ; sympathy with the Court. The disorders 
which occurred they attributed either to the just 
indignation of the long-oppressed " sovereign," or to 
hired agitators, brought in by the conservative party 
to stir up riots, and thus cover the popular cause 
with odium. 

On either hand there were accusations without 
proof, suspicions without cause, violence and hatred 
instead of patience and good-will. All of the gen- 
erosity, the dignity, the reasonableness, which the 
different estates had shown a year before in the 
memorials which they had sent to the States-General, 
had disappeared. 

Roland and his wife were known to be deeply in 
sympathy with democratic ideas, to preach them con- 
stantly. In spite of the fact that his natural rela- 
tions were with the aristocratic class, Roland was 
active in the people's clubs at Lyons ; he was called 
the Maecenas of Champagneux. He was suspected, if 
not of inciting to disorder, yet of sympathizing with 
it, and of regarding it as an instrument for forcing 
the Court, and driving the Assembly. He began 
to be considered a "suspect" by the conservatives. 
Such was the feeling towards him when he was a 
candidate for mayor, in 1789, that the most improb- 
able stories were circulated about him. The Abbe* 
Guillon declares in his Memoirs that Roland dis- 
guised himself and went into the taverns, begging 



136 MADAME BOLAND 

the people's votes; that he joined in their orgies 
and distributed among them seditious pamphlets. 
These charges are so inconsistent with the real char- 
acter of Roland that it is not worth considering them, 
and they are only worth quoting as a specimen of 
the violent suspicions of the liberals, or rSvolution- 
naires, held and spread by the conservative party. 

About this time a question arose in which Roland 
took an active interest — that of the octroi. The 
misery of the people of Lyons demanded that it be 
removed. It was retained, however, and the people, 
desperate, rose in revolt. This uprising, said the 
patriots, was " spontaneous." It was the " work of 
agitators," declared the conservatives. Brissot, in 
the Patriote frangais, condemned the riot. Roland 
wrote, thereupon, a long letter defending it, and 
remarked in Lyons, one day, that there never had 
been a revolution yet without bloodshed. This was 
enough for his opponents to declare him to be the 
author of the insurrection. " This report has already 
[21 July, 1790] reached the capitol," wrote Madame 
Roland to Bancal, " and in three or four quarters of 
Lyons, where the mercantile aristocracy is dominant, 
the strangest things are said against him. You 
judge that this storm disturbs us very little ; Ave 
have seen more terrible, and would not mind it if 
our enemies should cause us to be called to the 
bar of the National Assembly. Our friend there 
would be like Scipio before the assembly of the 
people." 



FIRST POLITICAL SALON 137 

Every-day matters grew more complicated. The 
aristocracy, in face of the disorders, called upon 
the government for troops. The people, like the 
Parisians the year before, were exasperated at the 
idea of guards. At the same time rumors of an 
Austrian and Prussian invasion, organized by the 
emigres who had been leaving France ever since 
the days of October 5th, irritated and frightened 
the Lyonnais. It was said that the enemy would 
enter by the way of Savoy. The idea of a counter- 
revolution, centred in Lyons, was spread abroad 
and inflamed more than ever the nervous and 
terrified populace. 

Madame Roland was convinced of the truth of 
all these rumors, just as her opponents were con- 
vinced that she and her husband meant anarchy 
and violence by their patriotic and determined sup- 
port of the people and the Revolution. In every 
letter to Bancal, since June 22d, — she had been 
writing him constantly, — she repeated her distrust. 
In her judgment, it was her duty to report very 
alarming signs. Her two principles, at this, mo- 
ment, were "security is the tomb of liberty," "in- 
dulgence towards men in authority tempts them 
to despotism." 

Throughout the summer and fall of 1790, the 
rumors of counter-revolution, accusation, denials, sus- 
picion, terror, similar to what Madame Roland was 
attempting to spread among her friends, agitated 
Lyons; and the preparations for the elections of 



138 MADAME ROLAND 

the year were made in savage excitement. Roland 
was again a candidate for a position in the munici- 
pality and from day to day was more detested. 
Madame Roland's name was everywhere associated 
with his. " They write me from Lyons," she says, 
"that at the mention of my name the aristocrats 
writhe as those possessed of devils are said to do 
when holy water is sprinkled on them." 

Roland was elected a member of the municipal 
government in spite of the machinations of the 
aristocrats, the power of whom had been greatly 
weakened by the discovery in November of an ex- 
tensive royalist plot. There was no doubt of the 
plot this time, and the reaction in favor of the 
Revolution was general. 

They left Le Clos after Roland's election to es- 
tablish themselves at Lyons, which they had made 
up their minds not to abandon until after its com- 
plete regeneration. So serious were the affairs of 
the city that the new municipality soon decided to 
send representatives to Paris to claim from the 
National Assembly the payment of the debt that 
the ancient regime had made her take upon herself. 
Roland was one of the deputies chosen to go. 
When he went up on this mission his wife accom- 
panied him. 

The opinions on the work of the Assembly 
which Madame Roland carried up to Paris were 
not friendly. She had watched its work all 
through the year with critical keenness. All its 



FIRST POLITICAL SALON 139 

actions had been tested by her pure republican 
standards, and wherever they fell short had been 
sharply condemned. She had absolutely no sym- 
pathy with delays, with compromises, with ten- 
tative measures, and she was as aggressively 
suspicious of the patriotism of the members as 
she was of the sincerity of the aristocrats. The 
condition of the finances troubled her. She could 
see no excuse for a delay in giving the country an 
exact statement of the public accounts. The press 
had not enough liberty to please her. "A people 
is not free," she declared, "and cannot become so, 
unless each one has the means of uncovering per- 
fidious designs, of revealing the abuses of talent 
as well as of authority, of exposing the opinions of 
everybody, of weighing the laws in the scales of 
universal reason. What does it matter if one is 
abused, providing one is innocent and always ready 
to prove it ? This kind of war on virtue seems to me 
excellent; perhaps custom and security do nothing 
for virtue but take away its energy. It must be 
attacked to be strong, and it is danger which ren- 
ders it sublime. " 

The manner in which the National Assembly did 
its work inspired her contempt. It was stupid, mere 
patch-work. " It jumps perpetually from one thing 
to another," she complained, " and is behind with 
the things of the first importance without our 
knowing why." 

On account of this feebleness of the Assembly, 



140 MADAME BOLAND 

she insisted that it must be watched; that ad- 
dresses should be made to it by the clubs ; that 
the bons esprits should unite and sketch the ob- 
jects which it was suitable for the legislature to 
consider, to the exclusion of everything else. She 
failed to see that it was largely just this interfer- 
ence with the Assembly which was preventing its 
doing its work; that it was because the patriots 
in their zeal did not mind their own business, but 
encumbered the sittings with demands of the most 
varied character, threatened the body with disaster 
if it did not hear them, sent delegations on er- 
rands, now of private and selfish, now of large 
import, that the continuity she demanded was 
wanting. 

They reached Paris towards the end of February, 
1791, and installed themselves at the H6tel Britan- 
nique, in the Rue Guenegaud, opposite the H6tel des 
Monnaies. Here she was within easy reach of all her 
old neighbors, and whenever she went out on the 
street which opened on the quay, she could see her 
old home. She had not been in Paris for five years. 
In her intimate circle great changes had taken place. 
Her father had died in the rude winter of 1787-88 ; 
her uncle Bimont, the good cure of Vincennes, and 
the Cure* Roland, whom they loved so well, who 
made the trip in Switzerland with them, and who 
had welcomed the Revolution as they did, were both 
dead. There was left only " the debris of a family, 
which in the last ten years had become almost 



FIRST POLITICAL SALON 141 

extinct." She took the greatest pleasure in going 
over the places where her early years had been 
passed, and the tears of tenderness she shed in 
looking on these familiar scenes delighted her. 
They proved that she had not allowed ambition, 
cares, and petty passions to dry up the springs of 
her soul. 

Her visits to her old friends were scarcely finished 
before she began to devote herself to public affairs. 
The Assembly was sitting only a little distance 
from her hotel, in the Manege of the Tuileries, now 
destroyed, but then running along the north side of 
the garden, parallel with the Rue de Rivoli, and 
thither she went frequently, but her first impres- 
sion of the body saddened and irritated her. All 
the opinions she had formed at Le Clos were only 
intensified by the nearer view. 

Two years and a half afterwards, when she recalled 
these visits, she noted an impression which explains 
unquestionably something of her harshness towards 
the Assembly. "I saw, with secret resentment, 
that if reason, honesty, principle, controlled the Left, 
there were advantages on the Right, that I would 
have gladly turned over to the good cause because of 
their great effect on an assembly. I mean that easy 
and noble elocution, that nicety of expression, that 
polish in the tones of the voice, — if I am allowed to 
express myself so, — which a superior education and 
familiarity with good society give." 

Her pride was wounded by the evident superiority 



142 MADAME BOLANB 

of the aristocrats in manner and in expression. It 
aroused in her an altogether illogical bitterness 
against them. She was irritated because she and her 
friends, who alone, she was convinced, understood 
unselfish patriotism, who alone held the doctrines in 
all their purity and simplicity, should yet be inferior 
in externals to their rivals. This distinction became 
a personal grievance with her. 

After having followed the Assembly two months, 
she left a session at the end of April in anger, per- 
suaded that it was incapable of anything but folly, 
and vowing never to look at it again, — an engage- 
ment she faithfully kept. At the same time she told 
Champagneux, with whom she and Roland were both 
in correspondence, that she was not going any more 
to the theatre : " It is much too frivolous for my taste 
in such serious circumstances." And to Bancal she 
wrote : " In other days the fine arts and all that 
concern them was the greatest charm of the capital 
in my eyes, but now that I know that I have a coun- 
try I feel differently; the solicitude of the patriot 
leaves but little place for matters of taste." 

To the patriotic clubs she did go, however, and 
one of them, the Cercle Social, especially interested 
her. She even sent letters to it sometimes, without 
signing them, however. " I do not believe that our 
customs permit women to show themselves yet," she 
said ; " they ought to inspire and nourish the good, 
inflame all the sentiments useful to the country, but 
not appear to take part in political work. They can 



FIRST POLITICAL SALON 143 

act openly only when the French shall merit the 
name of free men ; until then, our lightness, our 
corrupt customs, would make what they tried to do 
ridiculous ; and would destroy the advantage which 
otherwise might result." While the Cercle Social 
pleased them both, the Jacobins were too conserva- 
tive. " The Jacobins have lost their credit, no longer 
doing, or doing badly, the duty that they took upon 
themselves, to discuss the subjects before the Assem- 
bly," Madame Roland wrote. "They are led by 
their directors' board, which is under the thumb of 
two or three individuals who are much more careful 
about preserving their own ascendency than of prop- 
agating public spirit and of serving liberty efficiently. 
In the club formerly so useful everything is now 
done by a clique." "We have seen those precious 
Jacobins," Roland wrote to Champagneux. "If 
objects increase in size as we approach them, it is 
rare that it is not the contrary with mortals." No 
doubt much of their dissatisfaction with the Assem- 
bly and the public was due to the difficulty Roland 
had in pushing the claims of Lyons. Paris was 
crowded with commissioners from all the towns 
between Marseilles and Dunkirk, and there was 
the greatest trouble in getting hearings from the 
committee charged with such affairs, and in per- 
suading the deputies of the department to present 
the business to the Assembly. Roland worked 
night and day almost, to push the claim of his 
town. "I sleep less and walk much more. Truly 



144 MADAME ROLAND 

I have scarcely time to live." He besieged the 
committee rooms, waiting for hours before the 
doors to collar his man as he entered or retired. 
He ate his morsel of bread alone in order to run 
to the Assembly, where one was obliged to arrive 
early in order to find a seat. 

The spirit in which he went into the work was one 
of declared war to the aristocratic party at Lyons and 
to the old regime. He was determined to show up 
the situation, and exhorted his friends at Lyons to 
uncover all the rascality and pillage of the old ad- 
ministration. The deputies from the Lyonnais were 
not too sympathetic. They found the persistency, 
the vertu, the incessant indignation, the insistency 
of Roland, tiresome. After sitting so many long 
months, under such exciting circumstances, they 
were weary. They saw the difficulties of getting a 
hearing, too, from the Assembly. 

Roland poured out all his impatience to Champag- 
neux, who was his confidant and sympathizer. Long 
letters, written in his fine, nervous, execrable hand, 
went almost daily to Lyons. They were full of 
indignation at everything and everybody; especially 
was the delay irritating to him. " If affairs do not 
go backwards like the crab," he says, " at least they 
go no faster than the tortoise." The delay disgusted 
Madame Roland as much as it did her husband. Both 
committee and Assembly were blamed by her. She 
even wished that she were a man that she might do 
something herself. 



FIRST POLITICAL SALON 145 

Of much more importance to their political lives 
at this moment than Assembly, clubs, or committee 
meetings, were the frequent gatherings of patriots 
held at the Rolands' apartments, in the Rue Gue*ne"- 
gaud. They were " grandly lodged," the quarter 
was agreeable, and many of their friends lived but 
a short distance away. As Roland found it neces- 
sary to see the deputies frequently, he gathered them 
about him in his home. Brissot was the nucleus of 
the little circle. The relation with Brissot had been, 
up to this time, purely by correspondence. When 
they came to Paris naturally they were anxious to 
see him. They liked him at once. His simple man- 
ners, his frankness, his natural negligence, seemed 
in harmony with the austerity of his principles. A 
more entire disinterestedness and a greater zeal for 
public affairs were impossible, it seemed to them. He 
was admirable, too, as a man, a good husband, a ten- 
der father, a faithful friend, a virtuous citizen. His 
society was charming ; for he was gay, naive, impru- 
dently confident, the nature of a sweet-tempered boy 
of fifteen. Such Brissot seemed to Madame Roland, 
who esteemed him more and more the longer she 
knew him. 

Brissot brought several of his friends to see them. 
Among the most important of these were Pe*tion and 
Robespierre. The most interesting of the group was 
Buzot, of whom we shall hear much, later. To 
Petion, Robespierre, and Buzot were added ClaviSre, 
Louis Noailles, Volfius, Antoine, Garran (" Cato Gar- 



146 ' MADAME ROLAND 

ran"), Gregoire, Garaud, and several others. In 
April Thomas Paine appeared. So agreeable and 
profitable were these informal reunions found to be 
that it was arranged to hold them four times a week. 
The guests came between the close of the sessions 
of the Assembly and the opening of the Jacobins. 
The condition of affairs in general and of the Assem- 
bly in particular was discussed ; the measures which 
should be taken were suggested, and means of pro- 
posing them arranged; the interests of the people, 
the tactics of the Court and of individuals, were con- 
stantly criticised. 

To Madame Roland these gatherings were of ab- 
sorbing interest. She calculated carefully her rela- 
tion to them, the place she ought to occupy in them, 
and she affirms that she never deviated from it. 
" Seated near a window before a little table on which 
were books, writing materials, and sewing, I worked, 
or I wrote letters while they discussed. I preferred 
to write ; for it made me appear more indifferent to 
what was going on, and permitted me to follow it 
almost as well. I can do more than one thing at 
a time, and the habit of writing permits me to carry 
on my correspondence while listening to something 
quite different from what I am writing. It seems to 
me that I am three ; I divide my attention into two 
as if it were a material thing, and I consider and 
direct these two parts as if I were quite another. I 
remember one day, when the gentlemen, not agree- 
ing, made considerable noise, that Claviere, noticing 



FIBST POLITICAL SALON 147 

the rapidity with which I wrote, said good-naturedly 
that it was only a woman's head which was capable 
of such a thing, but he declared himself astonished at 
it all the same. ' What would you say,' I asked, 
smiling, 4 if I should repeat all your arguments ? ' 

"Excepting the customary compliments on the 
arrival or departure of the gentlemen, I never 
allowed myself to pronounce a word, although I 
often had to bite my lips to prevent it. If any one 
spoke to me, it was after the club work and all 
deliberation were at an end. A carafe of water and 
a bowl of sugar were the only refreshments they 
found, and I told them it was all that it seemed to 
me appropriate to offer to men who came together 
to discuss after dinner." 

She was not always satisfied with the results of 
these gatherings. There were plenty of good things 
said, but they rarely ended in a systematic resume. 
Ideas were advanced, but few measures resulted. It 
was fruitless conversation, in short, and she general- 
ized : " The French do not know how to deliberate. 
A certain lightness leads them from one subject to 
another, but prevents order and complete analysis. 
They do not know how to listen. He who speaks 
always expands his own idea; he occupies himself 
rather in developing his own thought than in an- 
swering that of another. Their attention is easily 
fatigued; a laugh is awakened by a word and a jest 
overthrows logic." A more just observation on 
French conversation would be impossible. It is its 



148 MADAME ROLAND 

delight. A constant bound from one idea to another, 
indifference to the outcome if the attention is kept, 
insistence by each individual upon expressing his 
thought at will, with eloquence and with fantasy, 
lawlessness, recklessness of expression, characterize 
all groups of clever Frenchmen who meet to talk. 
But this is conversation for pleasure, not discussion 
for results. It was in mistaking this intellectual 
game of words and sentiments for reflections and 
reason that one of the greatest mistakes of the Ro- 
lands lay. It was these vagaries of speech in public, 
in private, in print (the pamphlets which poured 
from the press were little more than random bits 
of conversation and as little reflective), which kept 
the public, the Assembly, the Court, in a constant 
state of ebb and flow. But Madame Roland herself 
was a victim to this popular weakness. Her letters, 
which are almost invariably outbursts of feeling 
rather than of reflection, may safely be considered 
an index to what she was in conversation. 

Another real trouble of the moment which Ma- 
dame Roland notes, though she does not see that she 
shares it, she expressed to Bancal : 

" I have had the opportunity of seeing, since my 
sojourn here, that it is much more difficult to do 
good than even reflecting men imagine. It is not 
possible to do good in politics, save by uniting efforts ; 
and there is nothing so difficult as to unite different 
minds to work persistently for the same end. Every- 
body believes only in the efficacy of his own system, 



FIBST POLITICAL SALON 149 

and his own way. He is irritated and bored by 
that of another, and because he does not know how 
to bend to an idea a little different from his own, he 
ends by going alone, without doing anything useful. 
For more than a century, philosophy has been preach- 
ing tolerance ; it has begun to root itself in some 
minds ; but I see little of it in our customs. Our 
fine minds laugh at patience as a negative virtue. I 
confess that in my eyes it is the true sign of the 
force of the soul, the fruit of profound reflection, the 
necessary means for conciliating men and spreading 
instruction, in short, the virtue of a free people. We 
have everything to learn on this subject." 

Madame Roland's letters written at this period 
abound in similar just criticisms on the Revolutionary 
temper. Her remarkably virile and comprehensive 
intellect penetrated the real weaknesses of the move- 
ment whenever she considered men and measures im- 
personally. Then she grasped perfectly the meaning 
of things, and her observations were profound, her 
insight keen, her judgments wise, and her conclu- 
sions statesmanlike. 

However discreet Madame Roland may have been 
at the gatherings in her salon, however silent she 
may have kept, she gained at this period a veritable 
supremacy over the group of patriots. There were 
many reasons for this. She embodied in a sort of 
Greek clearness and chastity the principles they pro- 
fessed. No one had a clearer conception of the ideal 
government which France should have ; no one ex- 



150 MADAME BOLAND 

pressed more eloquently all this government ought 
to do ; no one idealized the future with more imagina- 
tion, more hopefulness. No one gave himself more 
fully to the cause than this woman who would not go 
to the theatre because the country was in peril ; who 
could not look at pictures; who was ashamed to 
send Bancal a song in exchange for one he had sent 
her, because it was not grave enough for the circum- 
stances ; who was even " ashamed to write of songs." 
She became in a way the ideal Revolutionary figure, 
a Greek statue, the type of the Republic of which 
they dreamed. 

Her inflexibility was as great a power over her 
friends. They wavered, compromised, stopped at 
practical results instead of pushing to ideal ones. 
She had decision, firmness of purpose, the determina- 
tion to reach the end, and her influence over them 
was powerful because of this unyielding attitude. 
Nothing daunted her. Riot and war were sacred 
necessities. To die was their duty. Nothing could 
have been more inspiring than her firmness of pur- 
pose, her superb indifference to consequences. This 
high attitude had something of the inspired sibyl in 
it. Their " Greek statue " became their prophetess. 
Her very cruelty was divine. It was the "wrath 
of the gods," the "righteous indignation" of the 
moralist. 

No doubt the personal charm of Madame Roland 
had much to do with her influence. All who knew 
her testify to her attractiveness. Guillon de Mont- 



FIRST POLITICAL SALON 151 

lion, by no means a sympathetic critic, speaks of 
"her pleasant, piquant face, her active, brilliant 
mind." Arthur Young, who saw her in 1789, de- 
scribes her as "young and beautiful." Dumont 
declares that to " every personal charm " she joined 
" all merits of character." Dumouriez, who certainly 
knew all the beautiful women of his day, found her 
most attractive, and speaks especially of her taste 
and elegance in dress. Lemontey says of her : " Her 
eyes, her head, her hair, were of remarkable beauty. 
Her delicate complexion had a freshness of color 
which, joined to her air of reserve and candor, made 
her seem singularly young. I found in her none of 
the elegant Parisian air which she claims in her 
Memoirs, though I do not mean to say that she was 
awkward." And he adds, she talked " well, too well." 
Indeed, all her contemporaries testify to her brilliant 
conversation. Tissot tells of her " sonorous, flexible 
voice, infinite charm in talking, eloquence which 
came from her heart." As the tradition in the 
family of Madame Roland goes, she was short and 
stout, possessed no taste in dress, and could be called 
neither beautiful, nor even pretty. However, vivac- 
ity, sympathy, and intelligence were so combined in 
her face, and her voice was so mellow and vibrating, 
that she exercised a veritable charm when she talked. 
She herself considered her chief attraction to be her 
conversational power. In one of the frequent self- 
complacent passages in her Memoirs, she repeats a 
remark of Camille Desmoulins, that he could not 



152 MADAME BOLANB 

understand how a woman of her age and with so 
little beauty had so many admirers, and she com- 
ments : " He had never heard me talk." 

The portraits of Madame Roland, of which there 
are numbers, nearly all show a singularly winning 
and piquant face. Several good collections of these 
portraits are in existence. The Coste collection of 
Lyons contained thirty-three different engravings 
and medallions of her, and the print department of 
the Carnavalet Museum and of the Biblioth^que 
Nationale have both rather good specimens. By far 
the best collection, however, is in the town museum 
of Versailles — a recent donation of M. Vatel, a well- 
known collector of Gironde and Charlotte Corday 
documents and curios. 

The only surely authentic portrait of Madame 
Roland is that facing this page. The original is 
in red crayon and much faded, but? a faithful copy in 
black, well preserved, bearing the date of 1822, is in 
the possession of the great-granddaughter of Madame 
Roland, Madame Marillier of Paris. If one compares 
this portrait with that of Heinsius at Versailles, he 
will see that they have nothing in common. Hein- 
sius' portrait was bought in Louis Philippe's time, 
and bore the name of Madame Roland up to 1865, 
when the placard was taken off because nothing 
proved that it was she. However, it still figures in 
the catalogue as Madame Roland, and photographs 
made after it are sold in all Paris shops. The direc- 
tor of the Versailles Gallery was preparing in 1893 




MADAME ROLAND. 
After a crayon portrait owned by the family. 



FIBST POLITICAL SALON 153 

to revise the catalogue, and purposed then to take the 
necessary steps to establish the authenticity of the 
painting, but as late as May, 1894, it still was marked 
Madame Roland. The family do not regard the 
picture as authentic ; one point they make against it 
is that it is a full-face view, while, according to their 
traditions, Madame Roland never allowed anything 
but a profile to be made. It bears no resemblance to 
other authentic portraits, and is especially displeas- 
ing because of the full eyes, and the bold expres- 
sion. These characteristics, however, Heinsius gave 
to all his portraits of French women ; thus, the 
portraits of Mesdames Victoire and Adelaide at Ver- 
sailles are almost coarse in expression, and in strik- 
ing contrast to the other pictures of them which 
hang in the same gallery. The best reason for 
supposing Heinsius' portrait to be Madame Roland 
is a sketch owned by the Carnavalet bearing the 
inscription M. J. Phlipon, grave par son pere a 
19 ans, which strikingly resembles it. 

The reproduction of the painting at the Musee 
Carnavalet, as well as that of the cameo head, 
is due to the kindness of the director, M. Cousins. 
The painting is a new acquisition of the museum, 
exhibited for the first time in April, 1892. It is 
more apocryphal even than the picture of Hein- 
sius. It is a picture of the time — that of a very 
charming woman, but it has almost nothing in com- 
mon with Madame Roland. The eyes are blue and 
hers were brown, the hair is lighter, the chin is not 



154 MADAME ROLAND 

so round and firm, the neck is longer. Besides it is 
a full-face view, thus contradicting the family tradi- 
tion. As for the cameo head, it is evidently made 
after the family picture or the engraving of Gaucher, 
which latter possesses all the characteristics of the 
former. 

One other portrait should not be forgotten; it is 
that traced in June, 1793, on the records of the 
prison of Sainte Pelagic by her jailer. 

Marie- Jeanne Phlipon, wife of Roland, ex-minis- 
ter, aged thirty-nine years, native of Paris, living 
Rue de la Harpe, No. 5. 

Height, five feet; hair and eyebrows dark chest- 
nut ; brown eyes ; medium nose ; ordinary mouth ; 
oval face; round chin; high forehead. 



VII 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 



TOURING the months that the Rolands were in 
^^ Paris, they were in constant correspondence with 
Champagneux at Lyons. Their letters, for the most 
part unpublished, show the state of mind into which 
French idealists worked themselves in this period. 
Dissatisfied because the Assembly had not been able 
to complete the regeneration of France in two years, 
suspicious of everybody whose views differed from 
theirs, anxious to show how reconstruction should be 
conducted and how easy it is to run a government 
if you understand the principles and possess civic 
virtue, this party of which the Rolands are excellent 
types worked incessantly to discredit the govern- 
ment, to arouse contempt for the work the Assembly 
had been able to do, and to show that Louis XVI. 
could not be in earnest in his declaration of fidelity 
to reforms instituted. 

The Rolands lamented daily in their letters to 
Champagneux and other friends that public opinion 
was languishing, that the country was falling into 
the sleep of the enslaved, that the Assembly was 

155 



156 MADAME BOLAND 

worn out. They tried to arouse them to suspicion 
like their own by repeating all the alarming reports 
which ran the street without, of course, ever taking 
pains to verify their truthfulness, and by railing at 
them because they were inclined to feel that reforms 
were being brought about quite as rapidly as in the 
nature of the situation was possible. 

It was not many months before their exasperation 
had reached such a pitch that they were convinced 
that civil war was necessary, and they began to look 
about for reasons with which to alarm and push on 
the people to it. The only adequate one they found 
was to persuade the country that the King was plot- 
ting with the emigrSs on the border, and that they and 
the Austrians were watching for a chance to attack 
France, overturn the new government, and restore 
the old regime. On June 22d an event occurred 
which in Madame Roland's opinion was ample proof 
of the truthfulness of their opinions. On the morn- 
ing of that day Madame Roland opened a letter 
written the day before to Bancal to say : " The King 
and Queen have fled, the shops are closed, the greatest 
tumult reigns. It is almost impossible that Lafayette 
should not be an accomplice." 

For twenty-four hours she was in an ecstasy of 
patriotic hopefulness. The flight of the King was 
a renunciation of the contract he had made with his 
people in taking the oath to support the constitution. 
The evident duty of the country was to declare him 
dethroned and to establish a republic. She was so 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 157 

excited she could not stay at home, but went among 
her friends, urging them to immediate action. 

Her fixed principle that a woman should take no 
part in public proceedings was laid aside now. " As 
long as peace lasted," she wrote her friend, " I played 
a peaceable r61e and exerted that kind of influence 
which seems to me suitable to my sex. Now that 
the flight of the King has declared war, it seems 
to me that every one must devote himself without 
reserve. I have joined the fraternal societies, because 
convinced that zeal and a good thought may some- 
times be useful in a time of crisis." 

Her joy was short. The tumult which threatened 
in Paris was promptly quieted by Lafayette, at the 
head of the National Guards. The citizens were ex- 
horted to calm, to vigilance, to confidence in the As- 
sembly. Madame Roland writhed under this attitude. 
"Is this the place to be tranquil and contented?" 
she cried. She and her friends, convinced that the 
measures to prevent a riot and restore order were 
directed especially at themselves, gathered at Robes- 
pierre's, where they considered ways of driving the 
people to an action of which the Assembly was 
incapable. 

In the midst of their activity the King was brought 
back, and to their dismay they saw that he would 
in all probability be kept in place without public 
trial. Their alarm was intense. Without the King 
they were convinced all would be well. Regenera- 
tion was certain if royalty could be dispensed with. 



158 MADAME ROLAND 

Nothing else was preventing the adoption of a Re- 
public. He was "worse than a stick in a wheel," 
declared Roland to Champagneux. 

In the melee of opinion which followed the King's 
return, Madame Roland's position was well defined: 
" To put the King back on the throne," she wrote, 
" is an absurdity ; to declare him incapable is to be 
obliged, according to the constitution, to name a 
regent ; to name a regent would confirm the vices 
of the constitution at a moment when one can and 
ought to correct them. The most just measure 
would be to try him ; but the country is incapable of 
anything so lofty as that. There is nothing to do 
but suspend and guard him while searching those 
who aided in his flight; to go on acting without 
royal consent and, in order to put more regularity 
and activity into the distribution and exercise of 
power, name a temporary President. In this way 
it would be easy to show Paris and the departments 
that a king is not necessary and that the machine can 
go on well enough without him." This programme 
she was willing to " preach from the roofs," but it 
was not adopted. The King was restored. 

The Republic which she and her friends dreamed 
of at this moment and did not hesitate to announce, 
was not in the public mind, and when they insisted 
upon it, they were insisting upon an individual 
opinion of which the country at large had no con- 
ception, and for which it had no sympathy. By her 
own confession both the Assembly and the Jacobins 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 159 

"went into convulsions" at the mere pronunciation 
of the name Republic. There were only two socie- 
ties which, after the flight of the King, dared declare 
themselves tyrannicides, — the Cordeliers and a group 
of private individuals. At the Cercle Social they 
did discuss whether it was suitable or not to conserve 
kings, but at the Jacobins the very name Republican 
was hissed. Nevertheless they worked valiantly to 
spread their ideas. Robert published a pamphlet 
on the "Advantages of the flight of the King and 
the necessity of a new government or Republic." 
Condorcet published a discussion " Whether a king 
is necessary to the conservation of liberty " ; and 
Brissot, at the Jacobins, made a hit with a speech 
in which he showed that the cry that the King was 
inviolable and could not be tried was false ; that even 
if inviolability were admitted it did not apply in 
this case ; and that according to the constitution the 
King could and ought to be tried. 

Thomas Paine was then in Paris, believing as 
Dumont says, that he had made the American Revo- 
lution and was called upon to make another in France. 
With Condorcet, Brissot, and a few others as sym- 
pathizers, Paine formed a republican society. Their 
first concern was to publish a journal, the prospectus 
of which was posted by Paine on the morning of the 
first of July. In it he declared that the King by his 
flight is " free of us as we are of him. He has no 
longer any authority ; we no longer owe him obedi- 
ence ; we know him now only as an individual in the 



160 MADAME ROLAND 

crowd, as M. Louis de Bourbon " ; and he concluded 
his harangue by the announcement that "A society 
of republicans had decided to publish in separate 
sheets a work entitled The Republican. Its object is to 
enlighten people's minds on this republicanism which 
is calumniated because it is not understood ; on the 
uselessness, the vices, and the abuses of the royalty 
that prejudice persists in defending, although they 
may be known." This poster made a great noise in 
the Assembly, where it was denounced as " worthy 
of all the rigor of the law." According to Madame 
Roland, it was only by flattering the Assembly's love 
for the monarchy and by abusing republicanism and 
its partisans, that it was possible to convince the 
body that however ridiculous the idea might be, still 
it wa3 necessary to leave it free course. 

Only two numbers of The Republican appeared, 
says Madame Roland, in her Memoirs ; only one, 
says Moncure D. Conway, in his life of Paine. As 
a matter of fact, there were at least four issues, 
that number being in the collection of Revolution- 
ary pamphlets in the BibliothSque Nationale. 

It was soon evident that the new cause would not 
be supported. Nevertheless, the new word was 
launched. The effect of the injudicious, impractical 
action of Paine, Brissot, and their friends, Robespierre 
described a few months later when he had broken 
with the Brissotins. " The mere word Republic 
caused division among the patriots, and gave the 
enemies of liberty the evidence they sought to prove 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 161 

that there existed in France a party which con- 
spired against the monarchy and the constitution; 
they hastened to impute to this motive the firmness 
with which we defended in the Constituent Assembly 
the rights of national sovereignty against the mon- 
ster of inviolability. It is by this word that they 
drove away the majority of the Constituent Assem- 
bly ; it is this word which was the signal for that mas- 
sacre of peaceable citizens whose whole crime was 
exercising legally the right of petition, consecrated 
by the constitutional laws. At this word the true 
friends of liberty were travestied as factious by per- 
verse or ignorant citizens; and the Revolution put 
back perhaps a half a century. It was in those 
critical times that Brissot came to the society of the 
Friends of the Constitution, where he had almost 
never appeared, to propose changes in the form of 
government, when the simplest rules of prudence 
would have forbidden us to present the idea to the 
Constituent Assembly." 

As soon as the Rolands and their friends saw that 
the demand for the Republic was not welcomed by 
the people, they turned their efforts towards secur- 
ing a trial for Louis XVI. 

It seemed to be the only thing for which they 
were strong enough. To do this they were willing 
to unite with even demagogues, agitators, and with 
the worst elements of the people. They had only 
their voice and their pen, explains Madame Ro- 
land; if a popular movement came to their aid 



162 MADAME ROLAND 

they welcomed it with pleasure without looking 
after, or disturbing themselves about, its origin. 
Beside they could not believe that a party made up 
of the idle and the violent, and led by demagogues, 
could be formidable. It was a force to be used when 
needed, and crushed when the result desired had been 
obtained. Even when the union of the Brissotins 
with the populace had produced so serious a riot 
as that of July 17, the "Massacre of the Champ- 
de-Mars," as the radicals called it, Madame Roland 
did not change her views. She refused to see that 
the disorder was provoked in any degree by the 
people, and attributed the fault entirely to the 
Assembly and Lafayette. 

The letters they wrote to their friends after the 
riot of the Champ-de-Mars are full of alarms and 
of suspicions. "In less than twenty-four hours," 
Roland wrote to Champagneux, "there have been 
about three hundred imprisoned at the Abbaye and 
they are kept there in secret. People are taken up 
in the night. There has just passed on the Pont 
Neuf [it will be remembered that the Rolands were 
in the Rue Guenegaud and could easily see] three 
loaded wagons escorted by many National Guards. 
They say Marat is there, and different club mem- 
bers. Desmoulins is said to have fled ; they are 
after Brissot. The patriotic journalists are in bad 
repute, and frightful charges against them are being 
spread. The cross of Saint Louis multiplies incred- 
ibly. The aristocrats are more sly and insolent than 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 163 

ever. It was said yesterday in the Luxembourg that 
this legislature could not endure more than six weeks 
or two months; that there would be war with the 
foreigners in this interval; that the King and the 
ministers would come out ahead; that they would 
displace everybody, annul everything ; and that they 
would re-establish things on the old basis, but as- 
suredly not less despotic than before. . . . There 
is nothing but treason, lies, poisons. Those who live 
in hotels, or who are served by caterers, are afraid. A 
great number sleep away from home. There were 
hundreds of deaths at the Champ-de-Mars ; hus- 
bands killed their wives; relatives, relatives; friends, 
friends. Saint Bartholomew, the dragonades, offered 
nothing more horrible." 

But this is an alarmist's letter, a repetition of 
rumors, not a serious effort to picture what actually 
occurred. Compare simply its statement of the 
number of killed at the Champ-de-Mars — "hun- 
dreds " — with the most trustworthy accounts, and 
Roland's and his wife's state of mind is clear. Gou- 
verneur Morris, who was in Paris at the moment, 
went to the " elevation opposite " — the present 
Trocadero — to see the trouble. He says there were 
a " dozen or two " killed ; Prudhomme says fifty ; 
the official report gives twelve killed and the same 
number wounded. The same exaggerated state- 
ments characterize all their letters. 

Before the summer of 1791 was over Madame 
Roland was certain that public opinion could not be 



164 MADAME BOLAND 

aroused to another revolution ; that the " stick " was 
going to stay in the "wheel"; that the Republic could 
not be established. As this conviction grew on her, 
she lost heart. " I have had enough of Paris, at least 
for this time." She wrote : " I feel the need of going 
to see my trees, after having seen so many dolts and 
knaves. One rejoices in this little circle of honest 
souls when his cause triumphs, but when the cabale is 
on top, when the wicked succeed and error is ahead, 
there is nothing to do but go home and plant cab- 



And this she decided to do very soon, for the 
beginning of September she left Paris for Ville- 
franche. Everything on the trip discouraged her. 
She wrote Robespierre: "I find the people on the 
route, as in Paris, deceived by their enemies or igno- 
rant of the true state of things ; everywhere the mass 
is well disposed; it is just because its interest is the 
general interest, but it is misled or stupid. Nowhere 
have I met people with whom I could talk openly 
and advantageously of our political situation ; I con- 
tented myself by distributing copies of your address 
in all the places through which I passed; they will 
be found after my departure and furnish an excellent 
text for meditation." 

It was even worse at Villefranche, where, on arriv- 
ing, she made a tour of observation. She was con- 
vinced that the most of the inhabitants were utterly 
despicable, and made so by the existing social institu- 
tions ; that they loved the Revolution only because it 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 165 

destroyed what was above them, but that they knew 
nothing of the theory of free government, and did not 
sympathize with that " sublime and delicious theory 
which makes us brothers" ; that they hated the name 
of Republic, and that a king appeared to them essen- 
tial to their existence. 

She was as disgusted with Lyons for its devotion 
to the aristocracy. Its elections she declared detesta- 
ble and the deputies nothing but enemies of liberty. 
The officers in the department were as badly chosen 
as the representatives ; " if one was to judge of repre- 
sentative government by the little experience we have 
had of it so far, we cannot esteem ourselves very 
happy " ; the elections were bought, so were the ad- 
ministrators, so the representatives, who in their turn 
sold the people. Even at Le Clos, where she went 
immediately for the fall vintage, there was a cloud; 
for the calumnies spread at Lyons about Roland when 
it was a question of nominating him for the Assembly, 
had reached the hills, and the people attributed their 
absence in Paris to the supposed arrest of Roland for 
counter-revolution. When she went out to walk she 
heard behind her the cry Les aristocrats a la lanterne. 

Although Madame Roland sighed to escape from 
the " dolts and knaves " of Paris and longed for the 
peace of the country, the sentiment was only a pass- 
ing one. The charm of the little circle she criticised 
so freely, the friendships she had formed, her devo- 
tion to the public cause, all these things made the 
absence from Paris hard to bear. On leaving she had 



166 MADAME EOLASB 

hoped it would be only temporary. Roland was 
much talked of as a candidate for the new Assem- 
bly, and if he succeeded, it would take them back to 
Paris. She knew before her arrival at Le Clos that 
he had failed to secure the nomination. The news 
deepened her irritation at the condition of public 
affairs, strengthened the sense of oppression which 
the province produced, made her dissatisfied with 
Le Clos, her husband's future, Eudora. 

She had not seen her little daughter for seven 
months. She was deeply disappointed that she had 
changed so little. It seemed to her that she had 
gained nothing in the interval of separation, and that 
she had no idea of anything but loving and being 
loved. There was one way of awakening the child, 
however, in her judgment. She told Roland of it in 
one of the first letters she wrote him after reaching 
Villefranche, when she said : M Hasten back so that we 
may put our affairs in shape, and arrange to return 
to Paris as often as possible. I am not ambitious of 
the pleasures there, but such is the stupidity of our 
only child that I see no hope of making anything 
of her except by showing her as many objects as 
possible, and finding something which will interest 
her." 

For Roland, too. she felt that Paris was necessary. 
She was pained at the idea that he was going to be 
thrown back into silence and obscurity. He was ac- 
customed to public life ; it was more necessary to 
him than he himself thought, and she feared that his 



A STICK IN THE WHEEL 167 

energy and activity would be fatal to his health, if 
they were not employed according to his tastes. 

When Roland came back, he shared her feelings. 
He soon finished his affairs at Lyons, for the National 
Assembly had abolished the office of inspector of 
manufactures, and they spent the fall at Le Clos, 
occupied with the vintage, but they were restless. 
They had but little income and they turned their 
minds again to the idea of the pension, to which 
Roland's forty years of service had certainly entitled 
him. If they were at Paris, perhaps it could be 
obtained. Then Roland's work, which was simply 
the encyclopedia, would certainly be easier " at the 
fireside of light among savants and artists than at the 
bottom of a desert " ; for such their retreat seemed 
to them. They felt the need, too, of being near the 
centre of affairs : they ought to be where they could 
" watch " ; where they could help bring about the 
" shock " which must come soon or the public cause 
would be lost forever. Their dissatisfaction became 
so great in the end, and public affairs so exciting, 
that they decided to go to Paris. 



VIII 

WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 

T3UT how could they justify themselves in their 
-^ determination to bring about a new " shock," 
a second revolution ? The Revolution was finished. 
In the twenty-eight months that the Constituent As- 
sembly had been in operation, it had formed a consti- 
tution, accepted by Louis XVI. in September, 1791, 
which had cut from the nation a score of obnoxious 
and poisonous social, political, and economic growths. 
This constitution guaranteed, as natural and civil 
rights, that all citizens should be admissible to place 
and to employment without other distinction than 
that of virtue and talents ; that all contributions be 
levied equally among the people in proportion to 
their ability, and that the same violations of law be 
punished in the same way. Every man might go 
and come as he would, speak, write, print, what he 
wished. There was no limit to the right to assem- 
ble peaceably, or to make petitions. Property was 
inviolable. Relief for the old, the weak, the poor, 
was promised. Public education was to be organ- 
ized. The sovereignty rested in the nation ; from 

168 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 169 

it came all the power. The constitution was rep- 
resented by a legislative body, and the King could 
not dissolve this assembly. He was King of the 
French, and his person was sacred, but he was in- 
ferior to the law, and reigned by it and in its 
name. 

Undoubtedly, as Etienne Dumont said, " the con- 
stitution had too much of a republic for a monarchy, 
and too much of a monarchy for a republic. The 
King was a hors d'ceuvre. He was everywhere in 
appearance, and he had no real power," but evidently 
here was a basis which gave every man' in France a 
chance, and which offered the opportunity to work 
out a satisfactory liberal government. To refuse to 
work with this constitution was to continue and to 
increase the disorganization, the hatred, the fear, 
which had been agitating France for so long ; it was 
to prevent the new government having a fair chance, 
and was to make any correction of the constitution 
impossible. How could Madame Roland justify her 
resolve to prevent peace ? 

Her ideal was not satisfied. It mattered little to 
her that the people were indifferent to this ideal; 
that they were satisfied with the constitution and 
asked for nothing but a chance to let it work. The 
satisfaction of this ideal had become a necessity, an 
imperative personal need. She could not give it up. 
It was too beautiful. 

Even if she could support the idea of a consti- 
tutional monarchy, she could not believe in the sin- 



170 MADAME ROLAND 

cerity of the king and court. "I have never been 
able to believe in the constitutional vocation of a 
king, born under despotism, raised by it and accus- 
tomed to exercise it." She wrote in her Memoirs : 
" Louis XVI. would have been a man much above 
the average had he sincerely desired a constitution 
which restrained his power. If he had been such 
a man, he would never have allowed the events 
which brought about the constitution." 

In her judgment the supporters of the monarchy 
were "traitors," the constitutionalists a "cabale" 
This suspicion had become a disease. 

While she doubted the sincerity, the patriotism, 
the unselfishness of all parties but her own, she had 
profound confidence in herself. She saw no role 
in the world she says in her Memoirs, which suited 
her exactly except that of Providence. She had 
penetration, and flattered herself that she knew a 
"false eye" at first glance. She and Roland were 
"strong in reason and in character," but she was 
convinced that she was better than he. "I have as 
much firmness and more flexibility. My energy 
has more agreeable forms, but it is founded on the 
same principles. I shock less and I penetrate 
deeper." As for the majority of the human race, 
it was a "poor " affair. 

She not only suspected the old regime, and believed 
herself superior to it; she cherished a personal 
grievance against it. It had refused her solicita- 
tions although they were just. She did not forgive 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 171 

the humiliation. She was near enough to the Court 
now to feel her dependence upon it. Years before 
she had written to. Sophie : " I love my prince be- 
cause I feel my dependence but little ; if I were too 
near him, I should hate his grandeur." She is "too 
near " now, and her prophecy is realized. She "hates 
his grandeur." It is a species of that resentful jeal- 
ousy which distorts certain really superior natures 
when they find themselves in the presence of mate- 
rial splendor or of persons of lofty rank. 

When the Rolands went up to Paris in December, 
1791, they found there a number of important per- 
sons who felt as they did, members of the Legisla- 
tive Assembly, which had assembled on October 1st. 
They found, too, that they were already allied with 
their friends Brissot, Robespierre, and Petion, all 
three of whom held prominent public positions, 
Brissot being a deputy to the Assembly from Paris, 
and at the head of the diplomatic committee ; Robes- 
pierre, criminal accuser; Petion, mayor. 

This party of new deputies whom they found so 
congenial were known as the Gironde from the de- 
partment whence most of them had come. They 
were all young and all endowed with great talent. 
They had been brought up on Plutarch and Rous- 
seau, and their heads were filled with noble doc- 
trines and drafts of perfect constitutions. When 
they talked, it was in classic phrases. Their argu- 
ments were based on what happened in Greece and 
Rome. Their illustrations were drawn from ancient 



172 MADAME ROLAND 

heroes. There could be no doubt of the sincerity 
of their patriotism, of the nobility of their aspira- 
tions, of the purity of their lives, of their anxiety 
to die, if need be, for France. 

But they had no experience of politics, of men, 
or of society, save what they had gotten from 
short terms in provincial law offices and clubs. 
They had never come into contact with other forces 
than the petty agitations and wire-pulling of their 
home towns. Of the force of human passions, of 
the lethargy and persistence of the mass of men, 
of the fine diplomacy of the trained statesman, they 
had not a notion. 

They knew their Plutarch well, to be sure ; but 
all they had drawn from him was a giibness in mak- 
ing fine periods and certain lofty sentiments, a spe- 
cies of patriotic emotionalism by which they could 
move and thrill men. Of practical policy for diffi- 
cult and complicated situations, like the one they 
had been elected to face, they had not a shadow. 

In courage, in audacity, in buoyancy of spirits, in 
eloquence, in bright visions, in purity of life, they 
are all that one's imagination could paint. A more 
lovable and inspiring group of young men was never 
called together. But there was not one of them in 
whom contact with the world and sober reflection, 
had developed the common sense, the clear compre- 
hensive judgment, the hard determination to do his 
best, and the simple honesty which alone make men 
fit for public office. 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 173 

They were as blindly partisan as Madame Roland, 
and what Dumont said of Brissot was applicable to 
the Gironde as a whole : " He was one of those men 
in whom the party spirit was stronger than all moral, 
or rather he saw no moral save in his own party. 
No one had so much zeal of the convent as he. Do- 
minican, he would have burned the heretics ; Roman, 
he would not have been unworthy of following Cato 
and Regulus ; French republican, he wished to destroy 
the monarchy and to reach his object did not shrink 
from calumny, persecution, or death on the scaf- 
fold." 

They all had the malady of the times, — suspicion. 
It had become a species of superstition with them. 
" One may laugh if he will," said Dumont, " at these 
imaginary terrors, but they made the second revolu- 
tion." It was useless to argue with them, to give 
them proofs to call upon their good-will ; they were 
suspicious and what they imagined was as real to them 
as if it had actually existed. They did not need 
proofs, mistrust never does. They were possessed by 
a sentiment and reason had no place. 

As for their self-confidence, it was monumental. 
"No argument, no criticism, was listened to by 
them," says Mme. de Stael. " They answered the 
observations of disinterested wisdom by a mocking 
smile. One wore himself out in reminding them of 
circumstances and what had led to them; if they 
condescended to answer, they denied the most evi- 
dent facts and observations and used in opposition 



174 MADAME ROLAND 

to them common maxims, though, to be sure, ex- 
pressed eloquently." 

Feeling as they did, the only logical thing for them 
was to struggle to obtain power. If they were the 
" Providence " of France, it was their duty to get to 
the front. It was not for the sake of power that 
they made this effort. It was because they alone 
in their own judgment were sufficiently virtuous and 
enlightened to carry out the doctrines. They were 
" called " to preach liberty and a republic, and they 
went to their work in the same frame of exaltation 
and expectation as he goes who preaches the King- 
dom of Heaven. 

The only way in which they could arrive at power 
was by uniting with one of the two parties in the 
Assembly, with the constitutionalists or the Mountain, 
as the Radicals were termed. The former was com- 
posed of the well-to-do and the experienced men of 
the Assembly. It supported the King. It was the 
more honest and trustworthy, but it was accused of 
" aspiring secretly to increase the royal authority and 
to form two chambers." 

The Mountain was the party of the agitators and 
the street. It had the audacity, the violence, and the 
populace of the faubourgs. The talents, education, 
eloquence, refinement, of the Gironde were in har- 
mony with the conservatives, but they could not be- 
lieve that there was not a secret plot hidden under the 
patriotic pretensions of the constitutionalists. Their 
self-pride was irritated, too, by the aristocratic tradi- 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 175 

tions, the courtly manners, and the reasonableness of 
the moderates. There was a subtile superiority in 
their wisdom, their gracious bearing, their finesse 
which the Girondins resented. 

As for the Mountain the Girondins feared its vio- 
lence, its open advocacy of bloodshed less than 
they did its suspicion. They wanted to be consid- 
ered the purest of the patriots and they could not 
support the idea that there was any one who pushed 
farther than they in making claims for the " sovereign " 
and for the " divine right of insurrection." They had 
not the practical sense, the experience, and the disin- 
terestedness to judge the Mountain, to see that it was 
chaotic, violent, irrational. Because it called itself 
the representative of the poor and the suffering, they 
imagined that it must be virtuous, and they wished 
its support. They feared its opinion of them even 
more than they feared the skeleton in the conserva- 
tive closet. 

To gain its favor they were even willing to sacrifice 
personal dignity and delicacy. The Mountain was 
ragged and dirty, ill-bred and foul-mouthed, but they 
shared a superstition of the day that rags and dirt, 
little bread and a hut for a home, are signs of 
patriotism, and if a man is poor, therefore he must 
have good principles. They found the coarseness of 
the Mountain more endurable than the etiquette of the 
Court. Pe'tion, at his public dinners as mayor, re- 
ceived the Gironde. Among his guests were many 
" patriots " of the rudest sort, yet Condorcet, Guadet, 



176 MADAME ROLAND 

Gensonne, Roland, laughed at Chabot when he put on 
a bonnet rouge and went through a series of low buf- 
foonery, mocking the King, and applauded jests of 
" shocking grossness." 

Thus suspicion drove them from the conservative 
party, while fear of suspicion drove them towards 
the Mountain. Resentment at superior refinement 
turned their sympathy from the decent element of 
the Assembly, while a superstition about the true 
meaning of rags, dirt, and disorder awakened it for 
the wanton element. 

Just as they floated between the parties of the As- 
sembly, they vacillated between the clubs, — the Feuil- 
lants, which was for the constitution, and the Jacobins, 
which was for anarchy. Their object was not simply 
to do what was just and honorable, it was to do 
what would carry them into power. They must 
have power in order to carry their cause. To serve 
their party all means were justifiable. It was their 
uncertainty about which side would the quicker give 
them the leadership of the Assembly which explains 
their wavering over all the questions which absorbed 
the attention of the Legislative Assembly, — such as 
the questions of the unsworn priests, the immigration 
of nobles, and the declaration of war against Austria. 

When the Rolands came up to Paris in December, 
the Gironde was floating between the two other 
parties, fearing both, suspected by both. Hate, defi- 
ance, exaggeration, were at their height. No one 
knew what would happen next. " You would say 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 177 

it was a fleet at anchor in a thick fog," wrote Morris 
to Washington. "No one dares to put up sail for 
fear of running against a rock." 

When Madame Roland appeared on the scene, she 
had no hesitation in deciding what should be done 
by the Gironde. She had been too firmly convinced 
since the fall of the Bastille of the benefits of an- 
archy to fear it now. The lack of it had long been 
her despair. She was too suspicious of all persons of 
aristocratic origin to tolerate any union with the con- 
servative party. She was too firmly convinced of the 
value of war as a " great school of public virtue " to 
hesitate about offensive operations. 

Arrived in Paris, they settled in the Rue de la 
Harpe, where they lived very quietly, Roland occu- 
pying himself with the encyclopedia, with his plan 
for a pension, and with his friends. He went to the 
chief places of Gironde rendezvous when he had 
leisure, and they came to him sometimes. His chief 
political work, however, was at the Jacobin Club, 
where he was engaged on a committee. 

Their life was very quiet until March, when it 
suddenly changed. A friend dropping in one day 
told Madame Roland that the patriots were to be 
asked to form a ministry and that as they were 
going to seek men of ability and courage, Roland 
had been thought of for a portfolio. Some days later 
(March 21, 1792) Brissot came to see her to inquire 
if Roland would accept if asked. They talked the 
matter over, considered its dangers, sounded its pos- 



178 MADAME ROLAND 

sibilities, — the next day Brissot was told in classic 
phrase that Roland's courage did not falter, that the 
knowledge of his force inspired hirn with confidence 
in his ability to be useful to the country and to 
liberty. 

The movement which had brought about the Gi- 
rondin ministry had been led by Brissot. After the 
vetoes of the King to the decrees against the priests 
and emigres, every effort had been made by the Jaco- 
bins to show that the ministry of the King was in 
secret sympathy with Court and emigres, that while 
posing as constitutional, they were, in fact, anti-con- 
stitutional. Brissot had led this movement, and had 
condescended to some very low manoeuvres to dis- 
credit certain members of the ministry. His plans 
had at last succeeded, and Louis XVI., hoping to 
quiet suspicion, had consented to name a cabinet 
which would satisfy the Girondins. 

It was in this body that Roland had been asked to 
take the Department of the Interior. As was to be 
expected, the conservatives criticised the new min- 
isters harshly from the first. Roland was pictured to 
the country by the Mercure as one of the principal 
agitators of Lyons ; "no administrative talent, no ex- 
perience in affairs of state, a hot head, and the prin- 
ciples of the times in their greatest exaggeration." 
The conservative element naturally accepted this 
characterization ; for, outside of the manufacturing 
world, Roland was utterly unkn®wn. As for the 
Jacobin element, it was a question of how far in 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 179 

anarchy the cabinet would go; if it kept up with 
them, well and good; if it fell behind, then let it 
take care. 

With Roland's appointment, Madame Roland was 
at once put into a position of responsibility and 
power. The H6tel of the Interior, into which they 
moved, was situated in the Rue Neuve-des-Petits- 
Champs at the point where the Rue Ventadour now 
opens. It was a fine building which had been 
arranged elegantly by Calonne for the controller- 
general. In going into this palace they did not give 
up their apartment in the Rue de la Harpe. The 
other ministers settled themselves as if they were 
to remain for life, but Madame Roland saw only the 
" luxury of an inn " in the gilded hfttel, and kept her 
modest apartment on the Left Bank, a " retreat which 
one must always have in mind as certain philosophers 
their coffins," she told Bancal. 

In no way were their habits changed by their new 
position. Roland was, perhaps, even a little more 
severe than usual, and took virtuous delight in ap- 
pearing at Court with ribbons on his shoes instead of 
buckles, to the horror of the courtiers. They called 
him a Quaker in Sunday dress, with his white hair 
plastered down and sparsely powdered, his plain 
black coat, above all his unadorned shoes. Madame 
Roland arranged her life with strict regard for her 
notions of classic simplicity. She neither made nor 
received visits, and never invited women to dinner. 
Every Friday she had the members of the ministry ; 



180 MADAME EOLAND 

twice a week a mixed company of ministers, depu- 
ties, and persons Roland wanted to see. Rarely 
were there more than fifteen covers at table. One 
sat down at five o'clock to a meal always simple, and 
at nine o'clock this puritan household was closed. 
Of course, there was the theatre, with a loge for the 
minister, but it was not often that she left her duties 
for it. 

These duties were many ; for the habit of working 
with Roland, of copying, polishing, suggesting, begun 
the first year of her marriage, over the dull pages of 
the encyclopaedia and continued at Amiens and Le 
Clos, was carried into the ministry of the interior. 
She went over the daily mail with her husband. 
Together they noted the disorders in the country, 
and together decided on the policy to pursue. She 
gave her opinion on every subject, and exerted an 
influence on every question of the ministry. This 
was in private. In her salon she was as quiet as in 
the little salon of the H6tel Britannique ; neverthe- 
less, she was always the spirit of the gatherings ; a 
skilful and gentle peacemaker in too hot disputes ; 
an inspiring advocate of the most radical undertak- 
ings ; an ardent defender of her own opinions. 

Many of the measures to be proposed in the Assem- 
bly by the Girondins originated in her salon ; much 
of Roland's business with individuals was talked over 
in her presence. It often happened that those who 
had business with Roland came to her first with it. 

She was especially influential when it came to 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 181 

choosing persons for the positions in the department 
which Roland controlled. She flattered herself on 
her ability to tell a true patriot, and criticised and 
praised candidates fearlessly. A minister of war was 
wanted soon after Roland's call to the cabinet. He 
thought of Servan, because the man had exposed 
patriotic principles in a creditable book, because he 
had a reputation for activity, because he had lost a 
court position on account of civism, and above all 
because he declaimed bitterly against the aristocrats. 
They wished to found a journal to represent their 
party, and wanted a man " wise and enlightened " as 
editor. They decided on Louvet, the author of 
the most licentious novel of the day, because of 
his "noble forehead, the fire which animated his 
eye," and the fine and eloquent political pamphlets 
he had published. Because Pache had the simplicity 
suitable to a republican and the manners of the an- 
cients, because he came to his office at seven o'clock 
in the morning and stayed until three in the after- 
noon with only a morsel of bread brought in his 
pocket for lunch, because he was prudent, attentive, 
zealous as a clerk, he was thought fit to be a minister. 
They mistrusted all their colleagues who lacked 
these qualities. In the ministry was General Du- 
mouriez, a diplomat of skill, devoted to the consti- 
tution, skilful with men, wise with the King. He 
had come to see the Rolands in the Rue de la Harpe 
with Brissot to announce to them the call to the 
ministry. When he left, Madame Roland said to her 



182 MADAME ROLAND 

husband : " There is a man I have seen for the 
first time. He has a penetrating mind, a false eye ; 
perhaps it will be more necessary to suspect him 
than anybody in the world. He has expressed great 
satisfaction with the patriotic choice he has been 
charged to announce, but I should not be astonished 
if one day he caused you to be dismissed." 

She mistrusted Dumouriez at once because of his 
courtly manners, and his belief that the King was 
sincere in his efforts to support the constitution. 
There was so great a difference between him and 
Roland that she could not imagine the two working 
together. In the one she saw " uprightness and 
frankness personified, severe equity without any of 
the devices of the courtier or of the society-man." 
In the other she believed she recognized " an intelli- 
gent rouS, a bold knight, who sneered at everything 
except his own interests and his own glory." 

She did not change her idea of Dumouriez, al- 
though obliged to confess that he had more esprit 
than any one else in the ministry, that he was " dili- 
gent and brave," " a good general, a skilful courtier, 
writing well, capable of great enterprises," but his 
" manners ! " they were fit only for the ministerial 
intrigues of a corrupt court. 

Her suspicions extended to all his friends. " All 
these fine fellows," she said to a friend one day 
a propos of Dumouriez's followers, " seem poor pa- 
triots to me. They care too much for themselves 
to prefer the public good to their own interests. I 



WORKING FOB A SECOND REVOLUTION 183 

can never resist the temptation to wound their self- 
sufficiency by pretending not to see the merit of 
which they are vainest." 

As for the good faith of the King, she would not 
listen to the idea. During the first three weeks of 
the ministry of Roland, he and Claviere were dis- 
posed to think well of the King, to have confidence 
in the turn things were going to take. But she 
would tell them when they started out confidently to 
the Council meetings : " When I see you go off in 
that way, it always seems to me that you are going 
to commit a sottise" And when they came back 
with less done than she expected she declared the 
Council was " nothing but a cafe*." " It is disgrace- 
ful. You are in good humor because you experi- 
ence no annoyance, even because you are well 
treated. You have the air of doing about what you 
wish in your departments. I fear that you are being 
tricked." When they reminded her that neverthe- 
less affairs were going well, she replied : " Yes, and 
time is being lost." 

At the moment that Roland was called to office 
the question of public tranquillity was most serious. 
It was not alone in the cities that riots, pillage, and 
bloodshed were of constant occurrence. The prov- 
inces were in many places almost uninhabitable. 
Roland, to cure the disorders, wrote circulars and put 
up posters. 

For example, in his own department, Rhone-et- 
Loire, the question of the priests was causing more 



184 MADAME ROLAND 

and more difficulty. The provocation came now 
from one side, now from another. In certain par- 
ishes the constitutional priests were supported by 
the municipality, in others the unsworn were favored. 
In the midst of these dissensions, births, marriages, 
and deaths often went unrecorded. Here a priest 
declaimed against the constitution and incited the 
people not to pay their taxes, there the National 
Guard and mayor combined to drive a disturber from 
the community. In the district of Villefranche, the 
constitutional clerge of "the former province of 
Beaujolais " brought a long complaint to the author- 
ities : " The inhabitants of the mountains," they 
wrote, "influenced by fanaticism, are in a state of 
insurrection. They believe the churches to be pro- 
faned by the mere presence of the sworn priests ; dur- 
ing the services they throw stones against the doors, 
interrupt the services, insult the new cur6s in the 
midst of their duties, force the faithful to desert the 
churches. . . . The presbyteries are no longer a 
safe asylum. Those who inhabit them are forced to 
keep a guard ; they cannot travel alone without 
being attacked and exposed to the greatest dangers. 
There is not one of them who has not been driven 
several times from his home. New-born children are 
baptized by Non-conformists without the ceremonies 
of the Church — the fanatical and barbarous mothers 
declare that they would rather choke them than per- 
mit them to be baptized by the priests." 

The religious difficulties were inflamed by the rash 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 185 

and suspicious actions of the various parties, whose 
wisdom and diplomacy were annulled by excessive 
party spirit. The whole department, in fact, was 
racked by religious quarrels, bitter party-spirit, fear 
of Smigres' plots and foreign invasion, hatred of the 
constitution and " patriots." 

Roland had a formula for such a situation, and 
when the directory of Rhone-et-Loire asked him for 
help to restore order, he sent it to them. 

" The present troubles which agitate your depart- 
ment at several points," he wrote them, April 18th, 
" seem to have their source in the diversity of relig- 
ious opinions. This diversity of opinion is the fruit 
of error, and the error comes from ignorance. If, 
then, we enlighten men, we deliver them from prej- 
udices, and if the prejudices were destroyed, peace 
would reign on the earth. ... It is not by force of 
arms that one teaches reason. ... In the first place 
a well-organized state has only enough troops to pre- 
vent invasions, to meet force by force, and to enable 
all the citizens to enjoy all the benefits of their own 
constitution. Second, internal order should be main- 
tained by instruction, by public opinion, and finally 
by the force of the National Guards. . . . Elected 
by the people, you ought to have their confidence. 
Your instruction ought to produce the greatest effect, 
and you ought to be able through confidence and 
reason to form and direct public opinion. These 
means, used energetically and wisely, are sure. Is 
there a rare circumstance when they are too slow? 



186 MADAME BOLAND 

You have all the public force of your department ; 
you can use it as it is necessary, and you ought to 
direct it according to the circumstances. These are 
your means, sirs, and you rest responsible before the 
nation and its representatives, before the King and 
your constituency, for all the disorders that you do 
not foresee and prevent." 

One can imagine the feelings of a board of county 
directors harassed by daily riots, by incessant quarrels, 
by threats and plots, on receiving such a letter from 
the minister, charged with executing the laws rela- 
tive to the internal tranquillity of the State. The 
directory must have been composed of men singu- 
larly devoid of humor, if even in their grave situation 
they did not laugh at Roland's application of instruc- 
tion to the Lyons street-fights. 

To a department which had asked him for troops 
to restore order, and secure the free circulation of 
grain in its territory, he responded that if it was 
necessary to use force they must take the National 
Guards, and he added: "But must I counsel this 
step ? So soon as one employs arms to execute the 
laws, one not only proves that he has not known how 
to make himself loved, but that he will never be able 
to do so. A constitution which is enforced by the 
bayonet only, is not a constitution. Other means are 
necessary to attach a free people to the laws that it 
has made. . . . Instruct the administrations that 
you direct, and if they deviate from the observation 
of the rules, use that sweetness which commands so 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 187 

easily, that persuasion which leads to the repentance 
of a fault often involuntary. It is so easy for a 
superior administration to make itself agreeable to 
those that it has under its surveillance that, in fact, 
I believe I might say it is always the fault of the 
former when harmony is broken." 

And he continued this doctrinal campaign through- 
out his ministry. For all the riot-ridden country he 
had but one formula. And while the people burnt 
chateaux, stoned priests, pillaged storehouses, way- 
laid and stole grain, murdered nobles, he serenely 
preached how easily the difficulty could be ended by 
applying the dogma. And he believed it with the 
incomparable naivete* of the theorist. If some one 
called his attention to the fact that the disorders 
increased in spite of his preaching, he was unmoved; 
that was the fault of the "stick in the wheel." He 
was not dissatisfied that disorder should increase. It 
would show the need for a new shock. 

Armed with his formulas, his forty years of ser- 
vice, and his " virtue," Roland could see no reason 
why he was not adequate to the situation, and why 
he should not act as he saw best. The conviction of 
his own sufficiency made him tactless with those who 
were, in his judgment, less infallible than he. He 
assumed a pedagogic tone, a severe mien, a stiff, 
patronizing air towards them. He read them lect- 
ures, posed before them as impeccable. To men of 
experience, used to the world and to politics, as con- 
vinced as Roland of their own sincere desire for the 



188 MADAME BOLANB 

good of France, and of the sufficiency of their own 
ideas, this attitude was exasperating beyond expres- 
sion. 

It was not long before Roland and Servan, who 
was charged with the portfolio of war, began to 
regulate the King, " to kill him by pin-pricks," said 
Dumouriez. Madame Roland was responsible, to a 
large extent, no doubt, for their unpatriotic and 
traitorous conduct. Servan was % as completely under 
her rule as Roland, and she had cured both of them 
of the confidence and support they gave the King at 
the beginning of their ministry, and convinced them 
of his intention to betray the constitution and restore 
the old regime. To deserve their support he should, 
she believed, withdraw the vetoes he had put to the 
measures against priests and emigres. 

From the beginning of the Gironde ministry mat- 
ters had steadily grown worse. In April war had 
been declared. It had opened badly for the French 
and terror and suspicion were greater than ever in 
Paris. Religious troubles flamed up all over the 
provinces, made more intense by the fear of foreign 
invasion. As rumors ran, the army was not doing 
its duty ; the generals were traitors ; the court party 
was plotting to receive the Prussians, to massacre 
the patriots, and to overthrow the constitution. To 
meet the perils which threatened, Madame Roland 
had two measures : the proscription of the Non-con- 
formist priests, and a camp of twenty thousand 
soldiers, five from each canton of France, around 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 189 

Paris, to guard the city from the attack of the 
foreigners. 

This latter plan she persuaded Servan to present 
to the Assembly on June 4th without the King know- 
ing anything of his minister's plans and without any 
of the Council save Clavi&re and Roland being in the 
secret. The measure was voted by the Assembly, 
but it made a noise in Paris. The National Guards 
regarded it as a reflection on their patriotism and 
capacity. The Feuillants raised a petition of eight 
thousand names (largely of women and children, 
sneered the patriots), protesting against the measure. 
At the Assembly and at the Jacobins the measure 
was hotly discussed; in the club it was opposed by 
Robespierre, now in open rupture with the Girondins, 
and almost daily attacked by Brissot in the Patriote 
franpais. 

The King hesitated to sign the measure when it 
was presented to him. In Madame Roland's eyes 
this refusal was due to nothing but his disloyalty, 
and she advised forcing him to a decision. She was, 
she says, in a kind of " moral fever " at the moment, 
and felt the absolute necessity of some kind of action 
which would determine the situation. In her judg- 
ment Roland should withdraw from the ministry if 
the King did not sign the measures. But she wished 
that if he withdrew everybody should know that he 
did it because the King would not take his advice. 

In these circumstances Madame Roland proposed 
to Roland to send a letter to Louis XVI., stating his 



190 MADAME ROLAND 

opinions, urging the King to consent to the proscrip- 
tion of the priests and the camp about Paris, and 
warning hirn against the consequences of a refusal. 
She dashed off this letter in a single sitting, in the 
passion of conviction and exaltation which possessed 
her. 

" Sire, — The present condition of France cannot 
long endure. The violence of the crisis has reached 
the highest degree ; it must be terminated by a blow 
which ought to interest Your Majesty as much as it 
concerns the whole Empire. 

" Honored by your confidence, and placed in a posi- 
tion where I owe you the truth, I dare to speak it ; 
it is an obligation that you yourself have imposed 
upon me. 

" The French have adopted a constitution ; there 
are those that are discontented and rebellious be- 
cause of it; the majority of the nation wishes to 
maintain it, has sworn to defend it with its blood, 
and has welcomed joyfully the war which promises 
to assure it. The minority, however, sustained by 
its hopes, has united all its forces to overthrow it. 
Hence this internal struggle against the laws, this 
anarchy over which good citizens groan, and of 
which the wicked take advantage to heap calumny 
on the new regime. Hence this discord which has 
been excited everywhere, for nowhere is there indif- 
ference. The triumph or the overthrow of the con- 
stitution is desired ; everywhere people are eager to 



WORKING FOB A SECOND REVOLUTION 191 

sustain it or to change it. I shall refrain from ex- 
amining it, and consider simply what circumstances 
demand; taking as impersonal attitude as possible, 
I shall consider what we can expect and what it is 
best to do. 

"Your Majesty enjoyed great privileges which you 
believed belonged to royalty. Brought up in the 
idea of preserving them, you could not see them 
taken from you with pleasure ; your desire to recover 
them was as natural as your regret at seeing them 
destroyed. These sentiments, natural to the human 
heart, must have entered into the calculation of 
the enemies of the Revolution. They counted then 
on secret favor, until such times as circumstances 
permitted open protection. This disposition could 
not escape the nation itself, and it has been driven 
to defiance. Your Majesty has been constantly be- 
tween two alternatives : yielding to your prejudices, 
to your private preferences, or making sacrifices 
dictated by philosophy and demanded by necessity ; 
that is, either emboldening the rebels by disturbing 
the nation ; or quieting the nation by uniting with 
her. Everything has its course, and this uncer- 
tainty must end soon. 

"Does Your Majesty ally yourself openly to-day 
with those who are pretending to reform the consti- 
tution ? Are you going generously to devote your- 
self without reserve to its triumph ? Such is the 
true question, and the present state of things makes 
a solution necessary. 



192 MADAME BOLAND 

"As for the very metaphysical question, are the 
French ripe for liberty, the discussion is of no impor- 
tance here ; it is not a question of judging what we 
shall be in a century, but of seeing of what the 
present generation is capable. 

" The Declaration of Rights has become a political 
gospel, and the French Constitution, a religion for 
which the people are ready to die. Already violence 
has sometimes supplanted the law. When the law has 
not been sufficiently vigorous to meet the situation, 
the citizens have taken things in their own hands. 
This is why the property of the emigres, or persons 
of their party, has been exposed to pillage. This is 
why so many departments have been forced to pun- 
ish severely the priests whom public opinion had pro- 
scribed, and who otherwise would have become its 
victims. 

" In the shock of interests, passion has controlled. 
The country is not a word that the imagination 
amuses itself in embellishing ; it is a being for whom 
one makes sacrifices, to whom one becomes attached 
according to the suffering that it causes, who has 
been created by great effort, and raised up in the 
midst of disturbances, and who is loved for what it 
has cost as well as for what it promises. Every at- 
tack made upon it inflames enthusiasm for it. 

"To what point is this enthusiasm going to rise 
when the enemy's forces, united without, intrigue 
with those within to deal it the most fatal blows? 

" The excitement is extreme in all parts of the 




MADAME ROLAND. 
From a painting by an unknown artist in the Musee Carnavalet. 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 193 

Empire ; unless confidence in the intentions of Your 
Majesty calm it, it will burst forth in terrible fury. 
Such confidence can never be based on professions ; 
it must have facts. 

" It is evident to the French nation that the con- 
stitution will work; that the government will have 
the necessary strength the moment that Your Maj- 
esty sincerely desires the triumph of the constitu- 
tion, sustains the legislative corps with all your 
executive power, and takes away every pretext for 
uneasiness from the people and every hope from 
the discontented. 

"For example, two important decrees have been 
passed ; both concern the tranquillity and the safety 
of the State. A delay to sanction them awakens 
defiance; if it is prolonged, it will cause discon- 
tent; and, it is my duty to say it, in the present 
state of excitement discontent may lead to the worst. 

" There is no longer time to hesitate ; there is 
no longer any way of temporizing. The Revolution 
has been accomplished in the minds of the people ; 
it will be finished at the price of blood if wisdom 
does not forestall the evils that it is still possible 
to avoid. 

"I know that it is imagined that anything can 
be done by extreme measures ; but when force 
shall have been used to constrain the Assembly, 
terror spread throughout Paris, and disunion and 
stupor in the suburbs, the whole of France will rise 
in indignation, and, throwing herself into a civil 



194 MADAME BOLAND 

war, will develop that sombre energy always so 
fatal to those who have provoked it. 

" The safety of the State and the happiness of 
Your Majesty are intimately allied; no power can 
separate them ; cruel anguish and certain misfort- 
une will surround your throne, if you yourself do 
not found it on the constitution and if it is not 
strengthened by the peace which it ought to 
bring us. 

" Thus the disposition of the popular mind, the 
course of events, the reason of politics, the in- 
terest of Your Majesty, make it indispensable that 
you unite with the legislative corps and carry out 
the desire of the nation ; that which principle 
shows to be a duty, the present situation makes 
a necessity. . . . You have been cruelly deceived, 
Sire, by those who have sought to separate you 
from your people. It is by perpetually disturbing 
you that they have driven you into a course of 
conduct which has caused alarm. Let the people 
see that you are determined to carry out the con- 
stitution upon which they feel that their happiness 
depends, and you will soon become the object of 
their gratitude. 

"The conduct of the priests in many places, the 
pretext which fanaticism has given the discon- 
tented, have led to a wise law against these 
agitators. Will not Your Majesty give it your 
sanction? Public peace demands it. The safety 
of the priests depends upon it. If this law does 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 195 

not go into force, the departments will be forced 
to substitute violent measures for it, as they are 
doing on all sides ; and the irritated people will 
make up for it by their excesses. 

" The attempts of our enemies, the disturbances 
in the capital, the great unrest which the conduct 
of your guard has excited, the situation of Paris, — 
all make a camp in this neighborhood necessary. 
This measure, whose wisdom and urgency are recog- 
nised by all good citizens, is waiting for nothing 
but the sanction of Your Majesty. Why is it that 
you delay when promptness would win all hearts? 
Already the efforts of the staff of the National 
Guard of Paris against this measure have awakened 
the suspicion that it was inspired by superior in- 
fluence; already the declamations of certain dema- 
gogues awaken suspicions of their relations with 
those interested in overthrowing the constitution; 
already the intentions of Your Majesty are com- 
promised; a little more delay, and the people will 
see in their King the friend and the accomplice 
of the conspirators ! 

" Just Heaven ! have you struck the powers of 
the earth with blindness? will they never have 
other counsels than those which bring about their 
ruin? 

"I know that the austere language of virtue is 
rarely welcomed by the throne ; I know also that 
it is because it is so rarely heard there, that revo- 
lutions are necessary; I know above all that it is 



196 MADAME ROLAND 

my duty to use it to Your Majesty, not only as 
a citizen, obedient to law, but as a minister hon- 
ored by your confidence and fulfilling the functions 
which it supposes ; and I know nothing which can 
prevent me from fulfilling a duty which is on my 
conscience. 

"It is in the same spirit that I repeat what I 
have already said to Your Majesty on the obligation 
and the utility of carrying out the law which pro- 
vides for a secretary in the Council. The simple 
existence of this law speaks so powerfully that it 
seems as if its execution would follow without de- 
lay; it is a matter of great importance to employ 
all possible means to preserve in our deliberations 
the necessary gravity, wisdom, and maturity ; more- 
over, for the ministers, some means of verifying their 
expressions is necessary. If such existed, I should 
not be addressing myself in writing at this moment 
to Your Majesty. 

"Life is nothing to the man who regards his 
duties as higher than everything else ; after the hap- 
piness of having fulfilled them, the greatest good 
that he can know is that he has discharged them 
with fidelity; and to do that is an obligation for 
the public man. (Signed.) Rolaxd. 

" 10 June, 1792. Year IV. of Liberty." 

Roland sent this letter to the King on June 11th, 
although he had had the idea of reading it to the 
Council the day before, but there was no oppor- 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 197 

tunity, so says Madame Roland in her Memoirs. 
According to Dumouriez, the letter was sent earlier; 
for he relates that Roland read the letter at the 
Council, and that when he had finished it the King 
remarked with sang-froid : " M. Roland, it was three 
days ago that you sent me your letter. It was 
useless to read it to the Council if it was to re- 
main a secret between us two." 

This letter was the climax to the irritating policy 
w T hich the Gironde ministers had been pursuing with 
Louis, and he decided to dismiss them. 

Servan received his discharge first. " Congratu- 
late me," he cried when he saw Madame Roland. 
" I have been put out." 

" I am piqued," she replied, " that you are the first 
to have that honor, but I hope it will not be long 
before it is accorded to my husband." It was not, 
for on the 13th Roland followed Servan. He hur- 
ried home to tell his wife. 

" There is only one thing to do," she cried with 
vivacity : " it is to be the first to announce it to the 
Assembly, sending along a copy of the letter to the 
King." 

The idea was put into effect at once. They were 
convinced that both " usefulness and glory " would 
result. 

If this letter to the King began, as Dumouriez 
says, with a promise of secrecy, then to send it to 
the Assembly was, considering the position Roland 
occupied and the oath he had taken, a most disloyal 



198 MADAME ROLAND 

act. But did it begin so? Madame Roland does 
not speak of such a promise in her Memoirs. The 
report of the letter given in the Moniteur contains 
no such opening phrase, though naturally Roland 
would have cut it out in sending the document to 
the Assembly. Many of the memoirs and news- 
papers of the day, however, either quote the promise 
or assume that the letter was private. 

Dumont, in writing of Madame Roland, says that 
the greatest reproach that could be made upon her 
conduct during the Revolution was persuading her 
husband to publish this letter, which commenced, 
according to him : " Sire, this letter will never be 
known save to you and me." 

Mathieu Dumas says in his Souvenirs that it was 
confidential, and declares that it was read in the 
Council in the presence of the King, " although the 
minister had promised to keep it a secret between 
himself and His Majesty." Of the presentation to 
the Assembly he adds : " It was a new violation of 
the secret that the minister had imposed upon him- 
self. After his retreat propriety made the obligation 
of secrecy much more rigorous." 

The Guardian of the Constitution of June 16th 
called the letter " criminal " and its reading sufficient 
cause for delivering Roland to the public prosecutor. 
Among the pamphlets which the publication of the 
letter called forth was an anonymous one, in which 
the author told the minister that he was under the 
greater obligation to keep the secret, as he had 



WOE KING FOE A SECOND REVOLUTION 199 

promised, because the letter was an attempt to regu- 
late the King's puivate conduct and because it in- 
sinuated that His Majesty intended to betray the 
constitution. 

The result Madame Roland had foreseen, followed 
the presentation of the letter to the Assembly. The 
reading was interrupted frequently by applause, and 
it was ordered printed and distributed throughout 
the eighty-three departments. 

" Usefulness and glory " were attained. The Ro- 
lands were convinced that the letter would enlighten 
France ; that it would serve as the shock necessary 
to start the movement which would crush the rem- 
nants of monarchical authority. Madame Roland 
retired to the Rue de la Harpe more jubilant than 
she had entered the Hdtel of the Interior. She had 
not been proud of their appointment to the ministry ; 
she was of their dismissal. 

What she and her friends expected would follow 
the dismissal of the Girondin ministers, was a popular 
uprising, forcing the King to reinstate them. The 
disturbance did not come of itself, and they set about 
to prepare one — the artificial and abortive riot of 
the 20th of June. On this date fell the anniversary 
of the oath of the Tennis Court, and the citizens of 
the faubourgs Saint Antoine and Saint Marcel had 
asked permission to celebrate it by presenting peti- 
tions to the Assembly and to the King, and planting 
a tree of liberty. In the effervescence of public 
spirit such a demonstration might easily be turned 



200 MADAME ROLAND 

into a riot, and there was opposition to it from the 
authorities ; however, the Gironde succeeded in se- 
curing the permission. 

On the 20th, the petitioners assembled, a motley 
crowd of men, women, and children, armed and car- 
rying banners, and marched to the Assembly, where 
they demanded admission. It was against the law, 
but Vergniaud and Guadet contended that it should 
be granted. It was, and eight thousand persons filed 
through the hall. 

From the Assembly they pressed to the palace of 
the King, broke down the doors, invaded the rooms, 
surrounded Louis XVI., put the red cap on his 
head, but they did not strike. There was no popular 
fury. There were cries of Sanction the decrees, Re- 
call the 'patriotic ministers, Away with the priests, 
Choose beticeen Coblentz or Paris, but there were no 
blows. For the people, the affair was simply a spe- 
cies of Mardi-gras, and when they were tired of gaz- 
ing at the splendors of the palace and at the poor 
King, who, fearless and patient, let them surge about 
him, they retired. The King was still king, the de- 
crees were not signed, the ministers were not recalled. 
Said Prudhomme in his report of the day : " Paris is 
in consternation, but it is at seeing that this day has 
not had the effect that the friends of liberty promised 
themselves." 

The reaction was terrific. Lafayette left his army 
and hurried to Paris to protest before the Assem- 
bly and to demand measures against the Jacobins. 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 201 

The Feuillants rallied their friends for a desperate 
effort. The Court — openly contra-revolutionary 
now — worked with the emigres to make a coup 
which would sweep out entirely the new regime. 

The patriots were not idle. In their supreme last 
struggle, never did Girondin eloquence and intrigue 
run higher. The open contra-revolutions in Paris 
and the foreign enemies now each day nearer the 
city were reasons enough for action. By a burst 
of magnificent eloquence Vergniaud secured a vote 
from the Assembly that the country was in danger, 
and a call upon France to enlist for its defence. A 
movement of superb patriotism followed the decla- 
ration. Here was an unmistakable enemy. Vague 
alarms were at an end. The foreigners were actually 
approaching the capital, and anybody could under- 
stand that they were not wanted. The irritated, 
harassed country opened its heart and poured out 
its blood, — young and old, weak and strong, even 
women and girls, offered themselves. 

But this was a movement against foreign invasion 
— not against the remnants of monarchical authority. 
The result looked uncertain. Consternation and de- 
spair seized the Rolands. They foresaw the triumph 
of the Court, the hope of a republic lost, and they 
calculated on what course the patriots ought to pur- 
sue if the emigres and their allies reached Paris and 
combined with the Court to restore the old regime. 

Walking one day in the Champs-Elysees with 
Lanthenas, Roland met two Southerners who were 



202 MADAME BOLANB 

in Paris on a commission from their department. 
Their names were Barbaroux and Rebeequi. Since 
the opening of the Revolution they had been active 
in the cause of the patriots in Marseilles, Aries, and 
Avignon. The overthrow of the Girondin ministry 
had alarmed them. Roland's letter to the King had 
inspired them with warm admiration for his courage 
and patriotism. 

Like all the young blood of the country, they were 
planning action against the dangers which threatened. 
Their plans were well advanced when they met Lan- 
thenas and Roland. The latter wished to discuss 
the situation seriously with them, and the next day 
Barbaroux went to the Rue de la Harpe. Madame 
Roland was with the ex-minister, and the three were 
not long in understanding each other. Barbaroux 
soon won their confidence by his enthusiasm and 
eloquence. He was young, but twenty-five, and 
of a beauty that won him the name of Antinoiis 
from Madame Roland. He was animated, too, by a 
fiery scorn of " tyrants," " courts," and " kings," as 
unbelieving as Madame Roland in the sincerity of 
any party outside his own, profoundly convinced of 
his call to reverse the monarchy, and already with a 
record of services rendered to the Revolution. The 
Rolands found him " active, laborious, frank, and 
brave," and they opened their hearts to him on the 
means of saving France. 

"Liberty is lost," cried Roland, "if the plots of the 
courts are not immediately checked. Lafayette is 



W0BK1NG FOB A SECOND BEVOLUTION 203 

meditating treason in the North. The army of the 
centre is disorganized, in want of munitions, and 
cannot stand against the enemy. There is nothing 
to prevent the Austrians being in Paris in six weeks. 
Have we worked for three years for the grandest of 
revolutions only to see it overthrown in a day? If 
liberty dies in France, it is forever lost to the rest 
of the world. All the hopes of philosophy are de- 
ceived. The most cruel tyranny will reign upon 
the earth. Let us prevent this disaster. Let us 
arm Paris and the departments of the North. If 
they fail, let us carry the statue of liberty to the 
South. Let us found somewhere a colony of inde- 
pendent men." 

His words were broken by sobs. Madame Roland 
and Barbaroux wept with him. Rapidly then the 
young man sketched his plan. It was Roland's own. 
Arm Paris ; if that failed, seize the South. 

A map was brought out and they traced the natu- 
ral boundaries of the new State. The Vosges, the 
Jura, the Loire, and a vast plain between mountains 
and river divide France. The plain they would take 
for a camp ; the river and mountains could be easily 
defended. If this position was lost, there was a 
second boundary; on the east, the Doubs, the Ain, 
the Rhone ; on the west, the Vienne, the Dordogne ; 
in the centre, the rocks and rivers of Limoges. 
Farther still was Auvergne, the mountains of Velay, 
the Cevennes, the Alps, Toulon. "And if all these 
points were forced, Corsica remained, — Corsica where 



204 MADAME ROLAND 

Genovese and French had not been able to naturalize 
tyranny." 

As they traced the boundaries, they devised plans 
for fortifications and for mobilizing the army, but 
they concluded their council by the decision that a 
final effort must be made to save Paris. There must' 
be another revolt if possible ; the King must be de- 
posed and a convention called which would give 
France entire a republic. Barbaroux was ready 
with a plan to help bring this about and he left them, 
promising to bring a battalion and two pieces of 
cannon from Marseilles. 

They understood that it was an insurrection that 
he meant to prepare, but they did not hesitate. All 
the violence, excess, passion, fear of Paris must be 
excited this time ; there must not be another 20th 
of June ; the stick must come out of the wheel now 
or never ; and indifferent to the possibility that the 
passion they proposed to use might assert its right 
to help rule if it helped create, confident in the suf- 
ficiency of their theory and of themselves, they 
awaited the promised insurrection. 

But not all of their friends were so serene. Sev- 
eral members of the party had begun to realize the 
force of the popular fury they had been arousing. 
They began to feel nervous at the prospect in Paris 
of the horde of Marseillais Barbaroux had called. 
The bloodthirstiness of the Cordeliers clubs began 
to revolt them. They were forced to admit that 
Marat's journal was more influential than their own. 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 205 

They saw, too, a threatening thing — hitherto the 
insurrectionary element had been more or less cha- 
otic, it was now well organized and it had at its 
head a man whom they feared, Danton. What if 
the mob should refuse to retire after the overthrow 
of the King? Would anarchy be an improvement 
on monarchy? Would a sans-culotte be a more en- 
lightened administrator than an aristocrat ? 

Vergniaud, Guadet, and Gensonne tried to frighten 
Louis XVI. into recalling the ministers by telling 
him how formidable the threatened insurrection ap- 
peared to them to be, and by assuring him that it 
might be avoided by restoring the Girondins. Brissot 
in the Assembly denounced " the faction of regicides, 
which wishes to create a dictator and establish a 
republic." He declared that men who were working 
to establish a republic on the debris of the constitu- 
tion were worthy to be " smitten by the sword of 
the law." If the King was guilty he should not 
be deposed in haste, but a commission should be ap- 
pointed to investigate the affair thoroughly. Petion, 
who, as mayor, had aided in bringing about the 20th 
of June, became frightened, and counselled calm. 

But this sudden change could effect nothing now. 
It was too late for the Girondins to do anything but 
join with the Jacobins, making a pretence to leader- 
ship, although already feeling it slipping from them. 

Towards the end of July the allied force summoned 
France to lay down her arms. Suspicion was at its 
height. Excitement and disorder were increased by 



206 MADAME ROLAND 

the arrival of the Marseillais on July 30th. Either 
the allies would reach Paris and save the Court, or 
Paris must lay hands on the Court and go out and 
subdue the allies. There was no certainty of which it 
would be. At heart every faction was fearful. The 
King, the Court, Lafayette, the allies, the emigres, 
the Feuillants, Girondins, Jacobins, Cordeliers, fau- 
bourgs, all hesitated. Something was coming. What 
was it? There is no period of the Eevolution of 
such awful tension as this, — the months between 
the fall of the Gironde ministry and the 10th of 
August. 

In this exciting period it was the party of insur- 
rection which organized most thoroughly and most 
intelligently. The leaders who had taken this organ- 
ization upon themselves were Barbaroux, Danton, 
Camille Desmoulins, Santerre. They worked through 
municipal organizations, which, instituted since the 
Revolution, were turbulent, impetuous, fierce; these 
were the forty-eight sections into which Paris had 
been divided, and in nearly all of which the officials 
were sympathizers with insurrectionary methods of 
getting what they wanted. Under the influence of 
the cry the Country is in danger, Paris must act, the 
sections had aroused the people within their limits. 
During the first days of August, frequent reunions 
were held in the Place de la Bastille, at which the 
most alarming rumors of the treachery of the King 
and the approach of the enemy were circulated. These 
sections sent deputations to the Assembly with incen- 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 207 

diary addresses. They patrolled the Tuileries lest 
the executive power escape, they said in unintentional 
irony. They fraternized with the Marseillais, over 
whom the enthusiasm in revolutionary circles was 
constant. They swore repeatedly in their gatherings 
to save the country. 

By the 9th of August, the populace was in a 
tumult of alarm and of exaltation. They were per- 
suaded that they were the providence of France, 
and they believed every man who did not join them 
was a traitor. It had taken a long time to work 
up the sections of Paris to the united effort which 
Madame Roland had demanded from them in 1789, 
but it was done at last, and they were as convinced 
of the falsity of everybody but themselves, and of 
their own call to save the country, as ever Madame 
Roland herself had been. 

The 9th of August the ferment was perfect, and 
the order was given for sounding the tocsin. At 
that moment the sections decided that three com- 
missioners should be appointed in each quarter 
of Paris to unite with the Commune, with full 
powers to devise prompt means of saving the coun- 
try. The insurrectionary force thus had a legal 
representation. This representation received at the 
H6tel de Ville by the regular municipal council, on 
evening of August 9th, had before morning super- 
seded it, and was the governing force of Paris. It 
was a transfer of power, probably with the acqui- 
escence of the legal municipality, glad to escape from 



208 MADAME BOLAND 

the turmoil of things. The new body, to be known 
as the Commune, was composed of men almost with- 
out exception unknown outside of their neighbor- 
hoods, and there only for agitation and violence. 

While the new Commune was settling itself at 
the H6tel de Ville, the populace it represented was 
in motion. The force with which the Court and 
constitutional party attempted to control the move- 
ment was insufficient, and in part unreliable. In a 
few hours the leaders of the opposing force had 
been desposed ; Mandat, the commander of the Na- 
tional Guards, had been murdered; Petion had been 
"chained by ribbons to his wife's side"; Louis XVI. 
and his family had taken refuge in the Assembly; 
the Swiss guards, who had attempted to defend the 
chateau, had been ordered by the King to retire to 
their barracks, and had been murdered as they went ; 
the chateau had been invaded. 

The mob filled not only the Tuileries, but the 
Manege where the Assembly sat. That body, com- 
posed the 10th of August of Girondins and Jacobins 
alone, the constitutionals absenting themselves, 
found itself under the pressure of a new force, — the 
populace. They had worked for fifty days to arouse 
it. They had allowed it to organize itself. They had 
permitted it to do the work of the day. But what 
were they going to do with it now ? Could they use 
it? Was there not a possibility that it may use 
them? In any case, the objects for which the insur- 
rection had been prepared must be attained and the 



WORKING FOR A SECOND REVOLUTION 209 

suspension of Louis XVI. was voted; the Gironde 
ministers, Roland, Servan, and Claviere, were re- 
turned, Danton, Monge, and Lebrun being added to 
them. 

Madame Roland's policy had been carried out to 
the letter ; the united sections had acted ; the King 
was out of the way ; the patriots were in power. 



IX 



DISILLUSION 



"A/TADAME ROLAND'S plan had carried. Since 
- 1 - the beginning of the Revolution she had urged 
it. In 1789 when she called for "two illustrious 
heads," for " the united sections and not the Palais 
Royal " ; throughout 1790 in her demands for " blood, 
since there is nothing else to whip you and make 
you go " ; in her incessant preaching of civil war ; 
in her remonstrances in 1791 against the seizure of 
Marat's sheets, against the arrest of the turbulent, 
against shutting the doors of the Assembly on those 
who prevented it doing its work; in the H6tel of 
the Interior scoffing at Roland's weakness in believ- 
ing in the sincerity of Louis XVI. ; in urging Servan 
to present his plan for a camp of twenty thousand 
soldiers around Paris without the King's knowledge ; 
in writing the letter to the King and in pushing 
Roland to present it to the Assembly; in encourag- 
ing Barbaroux in his preparations for the 10th of 
August, — she had preached the necessity and the 
wholesomeness of insurrection. 

Throughout this period there is not a word to show 
210 



DISILLUSION 211 



that she hesitated about the wisdom of her demand. 
She was convinced, and never wavered. It was her 
conviction which held Roland. It was her inspira- 
tion that fired the Gironde. Now that the force that 
she had evoked was organized, logically she must 
unite with it. 

Roland began his ministry consistently enougla. 
Within twelve hours after his appointment he had 
changed every one in his bureaux suspected of 
sympathy with the constitution. He wrote immedi- 
ately to the departments describing the Revolution 
and sending copies of "all the laws and all the 
pieces relative to the great discoveries of the 10th of 
August," and lest the people should not hear of them, 
he urged the curds and officials to read them aloud 
whenever they could secure a gathering of people. 

Everywhere in the departments he upheld the 
Jacobin party. Thus at Lyons where the directory 
of Rhone-et-Saone had been continually at war 
with the municipality because of its moderation, 
the former body was deposed and the latter put 
into power with the compliment that in all cases 
it had maintained peace and tranquillity in spite 
of the fanaticism of the enemies of the Revolution. 
Chalier, who came to Paris to represent the munici- 
palit} r , — Chalier, who believed that calm could only 
be obtained in Lyons by filling the streets wi'Ji 
"impure blood" and who led in the horrible massa- 
cres of the city, — was, through Roland's influence, 
sent home "with honors." 



212 MADAME BOLAND 

Never was Roland's energy greater. He worked 
twenty hours out of twenty-four, and even his four 
hours of repose were often interrupted. By the 
20th of August he was able to present the Assembly 
with a report on the condition of France. In all his 
work he was logically in harmony with the Second 
Revolution. 

But Roland soon found himself hindered in his 
activity by an important part of the insurrectionary 
force which had produced the 10th of August, — the 
Commune of Paris. The commissioners who had 
been sent to the Town Hall the night of the 9th, 
with orders from their sections to devise means to 
save the country, had refused to go away ; large 
numbers of violent Jacobins had joined the body, 
among them Robespierre and Marat. The regular 
municipality had disappeared. 

The Commune believed that there was more need 
of it now than ever. The passions which had been 
excited to call it into being were more violently agi- 
tated than ever. The body felt, and rightly, that only 
the greatest vigilance would preserve what had been 
gained on the 10th of August; for now, as never 
before, the aristocratic and constitutional part of 
France was against the Jacobin element ; now more 
than ever the allied powers felt that it was the 
business of kings to reinstate Louis XVI. The 
Commune understood the force against it, saw that 
only audacious and intrepid action would conquer 
it, and went to work with awful energy to " save the 
country." 



DISILLUSION 213 



The tocsin was set a-ringinsr: the conservative 
printing offices were raided ; passports were sus- 
pended; barriers were put up; those who had 
protested against recent patriotic measures were 
declared unfit for duty; the royal family was con- 
fined in the Temple ; lists of " suspects " were made 
out; houses were visited at night to surprise plots, 
seize suspected persons, examine papers, and search 
for firearms ; a criminal court of commissioners from 
the sections was chosen ; the guillotine was set up 
in the Carrousel. So much for the interior. To 
meet the enemy without they seized horses and am- 
munition, set up stands where volunteers could be 
enrolled, put every able-bodied man in Paris under 
marching orders. All of this with a speed, a reso- 
lution, a savage sort of fury which terrified the 
aristocrats, inflamed the populace, rejoiced Marat, 
and alarmed the Assembly. 

From the first Roland found himself in conflict 
with this new body. He was the law now, and they 
were called to act above all law. They had a reason, 
the same that he had held for many months, — the 
divine right of taking things into your own hands 
and compelling people to be regenerated according to 
your notion. But Roland had reached the point 
where all the essentials in his scheme of regeneration 
had been gained — the Commune had not. Suddenly 
he who had been the vigorous champion of revolu- 
tions for removing sticks from government wheels, 
found himself the "stick in the wheel." If he de- 



214 MADAME ROLAND 

manded information of the Commune, lie did not 
receive it. If he complained of its irregularities, he 
was called a traitor. If he called attention to the law, 
he was ignored. All through August Roland and the 
Commune continued to irritate and antagonize one 
another. 

There was one man through whom they might 
have been reconciled, — Danton, he who, with Robes- 
pierre and Marat, formed the triumvirate of the new 
party of Terror. Danton represented the insurrec- 
tionary idea in the ministry and it was through him 
alone that Roland and the Gironde might have 
worked with the Commune. 

But from the first Madame Roland would have 
nothing to do with Danton. When it was announced 
to her that he had been chosen to the ministry, she 
told her friends : " It is a great pity that the Council 
should be spoiled by this Danton, who has so bad a 
reputation." They told her that he had been useful 
to the Revolution ; that the people loved him ; that it 
was no time to make enemies ; that he must be used 
as he was. She could do nothing to keep him out, 
but she was not convinced of the wisdom of the 
choice. 

He sought her at once ; for after the suspension of 
the King, Danton never ceased to repeat that the 
safety of France lay in union, — in an effort of all 
parties against the foreign invaders. " The enemy is 
at our door and we rend one another. Will all our 
quarrels kill a Prussian?" was his incessant warning. 



DISILLUSION 215 



Few days passed that he did not drop into the 
H6tel of the Interior; now it was for the Council 
meeting, to which he came early, hunting her up in 
her little salon for a chat before the meeting began : 
again he dropped in on the days she was unaccustomed 
to receive, begging a cup of tea before he went to 
the Assembly. Fabre d'Eglantine often accompanied 
him. It was not a warm welcome they received. 
The}^ talked to her of patriotism, and she replied in 
a tone of superiority and with a tinge of suspicion 
which was evident enough to Danton and his col- 
league and could not fail to irritate them. She gave 
them to understand that she saw through them, that 
she felt herself incorruptible, and that no considera- 
tion would induce her to unite with an element she 
suspected. 

Danton soon realized her inflexibility and before 
the end of August he had ceased his visits. Madame 
Roland had refused the only mediator between 
Gironde and Mountain, and in so doing had lighted 
another interior blaze. She was too intelligent a 
woman for one to suppose that she did not see the 
danger in further disunion. Why then for the Re- 
public's sake, for humanity's sake, did she not unite 
with him? 

The only reason she gives is the physical repug- 
nance that Danton inspired in her. She confessed 
that no one could have shown more zeal, a greater 
love of liberty, a livelier desire to come to an under- 
standing for the sake of the public cause, than he. 



216 MADAMS ROLAND 

Certainly she had based her judgments thus far in 
the Revolution on such indications, but Danton was 
of a different nature from the men who surrounded 
her. A volcanic animal tremendous in passions as 
in energy, in intellect, in influence. She says that 
never did a face seem to her to show brutal passion 
so perfectly. Her imagination had been awakened. 
All her life she had been the plaything of this 
imagination, and every face that came under her 
eyes had been read, its owner's character analyzed 
and his role in life assigned. Danton she figured 
poniard in hand, exciting by voice and gestures 
troup of assassins more timid or less bloodthirsty 
than he. She could not conquer the effect of this 
vision and for this reason she refused his proffer of 
reconciliation. 

Had Danton offended her by some coarse famil- 
iarity? The best reason for rejecting this explana- 
tion of her dislike is that she says nothing about it. 
If an unwarranted gallantry had ever occurred, we 
may be positive that she would not have kept it to 
herself. The " confessions " of her Memoirs make 
such an interpretation impossible; even her friend 
Lanthenas was not spared on this score. It is impos- 
sible to suppose that Danton would have been. 

For the first time, Madame Roland found herself 
face to face with a man who was an embodiment 
of the insurrectionary spirit. Hitherto that spirit 
had been an ideal, a theory, an unseen but powerful 
force which was necessary to accomplish what she 



DISILLUSION 217 



wanted. Personally she had never come in contact 
with it. She had idealized it as an avenging spirit, 
" terrible but glorious," cruel but just, awful but 
divine. That this force had an end to reach, a 
personal ambition to satisfy, an ideal to attain, that 
it might come into conflict with her, she had not 
calculated. In her plan it was simply an avenging 
fire which she could use, and which, when she had 
had enough of it, she could snuff: out. 

But now she saw an insurrection as a bald fact. 
Danton was a positive, living incarnation of her 
doctrine. Instead of rhapsodizing over the " divine 
right of insurrection," he organized the slums into 
brigades ; instead of talking about Utopia, he gave 
the populace pikes and showed them how to use 
them. His policy was one of action. It was a 
fearful bloody policy, but it was definite and prac- 
tical, and a logical result of what Madame Roland 
had been preaching. 

The revolt she experienced against Danton's bru- 
tality made her unwilling that the insurrectionary 
force should be longer recognized. She suddenly 
became conservative, as the radical who has gotten 
what he wants always must. She was jealous, too, 
for her party. They were the patriots, and they 
must be the ruling element in the new government. 
It would be a shame to share their power with so 
terrible a Hydra. It was but a little time before 
Roland under her influence was at cross-purposes 
with Danton in the Council. 



218 MAD AMU BOLANB 

Roland was destined to run athwart a more relent- 
less and savage enemy than Dan ton could ever be, 

— Marat, VAmi du Peuple ; that Marat the destruc- 
tion of whose journal by the " satellites of Lafay- 
ette " Madame Roland had complained of but a year 
ago. The most violent and uncontrolled type of the 
Revolutionary fury, Marat had won his following 
by his daring VAmi du Peuple, where in turn he had 
bombarded every personality of the Revolution who 
seemed to him to favor anything but absolute equality, 
who worked to preserve any vestige of the old regime, 
or who hesitated at any extreme of terrorism. In the 
spring of 1792, the " Brissotine faction'.' had been 
his target. His complaint against it was the making 
of the war. Roland he had practically ignored, for 
until now Roland had been the defender of Marat's 
methods. 

The 11th of August Marat had had- his people 
carry off from the national printing office four presses, 

— his due, he claimed, for those that the old regime 
had confiscated. It was a bit of lawlessness that 
Roland felt he should rebuke. It was a first point 
against the minister. Soon after the Department of 
the Interior received a large amount of money for 
printing useful matter. Marat considered his produc- 
tions of the highest importance to the country. He 
asked for fifteen thousand livres. Roland replied 
wisely that it was too large a sum for him to give 
without knowledge of the object to which it was to 
be put, but that if Marat would send him his manu- 



DISILLUSION 219 



scripts he would submit them to a council to see 
if they were suitable to be published at the expense 
of the nation. But this was questioning the purity 
of Marat's patriotism, submitting to scrutiny the 
spokesman of the people, and Marat was angry. 
He felt, as Roland had since the beginning of the 
Revolution, that the right to cry out against all that 
he suspected, and to voice all the terrors that 
swarmed in his head, was unlimited and divine. 

Thus Roland had antagonized the Commune, Dan- 
ton, and Marat, before the September massacres, but 
he had done nothing to show the public that he 
would not support their policy. On the second day 
of the massacres, however, acting on the advice of 
Madame Roland, he put himself in open conflict 
with them. 

It was on the second day of September that the 
riot began. Revolted by the barbarity of the slaugh- 
ter, stung by the insult offered them in a raid on 
their h6tel, half-conscious, too, that they must do 
something or their power would slip from them, they 
determined on the 3d, that Roland should protest to 
the Assembly against the massacre. But to protest 
was to put himself in antagonism with the Commune, 
with Robespierre, Marat, Danton. It was to make 
himself forever a suspect, to take his life in his 
hand. But that was immaterial to Roland and to his 
wife. To die was part of the Gironde jDrogramme, 
and they were all of them serenely indifferent to 
death if they could only serve the public by dying. 



220 MADAME BOLAND 

Roland wrote a letter to the Assembly, which is an 
admirable specimen of the way in which he applied 
theories to situations which needed arms and soldiers 
— a letter of platitude and generalities. He called 
attention to the danger of disorganization becoming 
a habit; explained where power legally belonged, 
and what the duties of the people were in circum- 
stances like those they then faced. As for the mas- 
sacre, he said: "Yesterday was a day over whose 
events it is perhaps necessary to draw a veil. I know 
that the people, terrible in vengeance, showed a kind 
of justice. They do not seize as victims all who fall 
in their way. They take those whom they believe 
to have been too long spared by the law, and whom 
they are persuaded in the peril of the moment should 
be sacrificed without delay. But I know that it is 
3asy for agitators and traitors to abuse this efferves- 
cence, and that it must be stopped. I know that we 
owe to all France the declaration that the executive 
power was unable to foresee and prevent these ex- 
cesses. I know that it is the duty of the authori- 
ties to put a stop to them or to consider themselves 
crushed. I know, further, that this declaration ex- 
poses me to the rage of certain agitators. Very well, 
let them take my life. I desire to save it only to 
use it for liberty, for equality." 

These were bold words considering the situation. 
They were an open defiance to the Mountain. They 
showed that the Minister of the Interior, hitherto the 
enemy of the party of Order, had put himself at the 



DISILLUSION 221 



head of that party ; that he had suddenly determined 
that he was going to snuff out the candle he had 
gone to so much pains to light. He did not consider 
it a serious task. It was only a question of appeal- 
ing to the people. "The docile people at the voice 
of their legislators will soon feel that they must 
honor their own work and obey their representa- 
tives." 

The next day, September 4th, Roland wrote to the 
commander general of the National Guard, Santerre, 
to employ all the forces that the law gave him to 
prevent that either persons or property be violated. 
He sent him a copy of the law and declared that he 
threw the responsibility of all future disorder on 
Santerre. It was fully two days after this however, 
before the massacre was stopped. 

Before the end the revolt of the Rolands was 
complete and terrible. They, with the Gironde, were, 
indeed, very much in the position of keepers of wild 
beasts, who, to clear their gardens of troublesome 
visitors, let loose the animals. The intruders are 
driven out, but when they would whistle in their 
beasts they find themselves obliged to flee or to be 
torn in pieces in turn. " We are under the knife of 
Robespierre and Marat," Madame Roland wrote on 
the 5th of September, and a few days later : 

" Marat posts every day the most frightful denun- 
ciations against the Assembly and the Council. You 
* will see both sacrificed. You will believe that is 
possible only when you see it done, and then you will 



222 MADAME ROLAND 

groan in yain over it. My friend Danton directs 
everything, Robespierre is his mannikin, Marat holds 
his torch and his knife ; this fierce tribune reigns 
and we are only waiting to become its victims. If 
you knew the frightful details of this affair, — women 
brutally violated before being torn to pieces by these 
tigers, intestines cut off and worn as ribbons, bleeding 
human flesh eaten. . . . You know my enthusiasm 
for the Revolution. Well, I am ashamed of it. It 
is stained by these wretches. It is become hideous. 
It is debasing to remain in office." 

She had begun to experience one of the saddest 
disillusions of life, — the loss of faith in her own 
undertaking, to see that the thing she had worked 
to create was a monster, that it must be throttled, 
that it was too horrible to live. 

The massacre was scarcely ended before Marat 
attacked Roland. He called him a traitor trying to 
paralyze the means necessary to save the country; 
his letter to the Assembly he stigmatized as a chef- 
d ceuvre of cunning and perfidy ; he accused him of 
securing the nomination of as many Brissotins as 
possible, of scattering gold by the handful to secure 
what he wanted; again it was "opium " he was scat- 
tering to hide his conspiracy with the traitors of the 
National Assembly. Madame Roland was immedi- 
ately brought to the front in Marat's journal, he 
giving her the credit of her husband's administration. 

" Roland," he says, " is only a frere coupe-clwux 
that his wife leads by the ears. It is she who is the 



DISILLUSION 223 



Minister of the Interior under the direction of U Il- 
lumine L' 'Antenas, secret agent of the Guadet-Brissot 
faction." In the same number of his journal there is 
an article under the heading " Bon mot a la femme 
Roland," where she is accused of squandering national 
funds and of having Marat's posters pulled down. 

The quarrels between the various factions of the 
republicans were so serious before the end of Sep- 
tember that the best men of all parties saw the im- 
perative need of sacrificing all differences and an- 
tagonisms, in order to combine solidly against the 
enemies of the new regime. 

Roland made overtures to Dumouriez, then at the 
head of the army, and was welcomed. Danton did 
his best to persuade the Girondins to forget the 
September massacres, and turn all their attention to 
protecting the country. A portion of the party was 
ready to compromise, but others refused ; they were 
the circle about Madame Roland. Dumouriez, who 
came to Paris after the important victory of Yalmy 
in September, did his best to reconcile her. In his 
judgment, "there was but one man who could support 
the Gironde, save the King and his country, — that 
man was Danton," but he was unsuccessful in spite 
of his diplomacy. 

The experiences of September, the desperate con- 
dition of affairs, the need of concentrating the entire 
force of the nation against the invaders, the disorgan- 
ization which was increasing on account of the dis- 
sension among the patriots, the impotence of Roland, 



224 MADAME BOLANB 

the power of the Commune, — all seemed calculated 
to force Madame Roland to compromise with the in- 
surrectionary force as represented by Danton. That 
she would not see the necessity of it, that she, so 
intelligent when she was unprejudiced, so good a 
politician when she undertook a cause, should refuse 
the only relation which could have enabled the 
Gironde to keep the direction of the new govern- 
ment, was no doubt due partly to the fact that she 
was at this time under the influence of the deepest 
passion of her life. 

A woman in love is never a good politician. The 
sentiment she experiences lifts her above all ordinary 
considerations. All relations seem petty beside the 
supreme union which she desires. The object of her 
passion becomes the standard for her feelings towards 
others. She is revolted by natures which are in 
opposition to the one which is stirring hers. The 
sentiments, the opinions, the course of action of 
her lover, become personal matters with her. She 
is incapable of judging them objectively. She de- 
fends them with the instinctive passion of the 
animal, because they are hers. Intelligence has lit- 
tle or nothing to do with this defence. Even if she 
bd a cool-headed woman with a large sense of humor 
and see that her championship is illogical, she can- 
not give it up. 

Madame Roland's antipathy to Danton was intensi- 
fied by her love for a man who was in every way - 
his opposite. The reserved, cold dignity of the one 











il 



Engraving- of Buzot by Nargeot, after the portrait 
worn by Madame Roland during her captivity. 



DISILLUSION 225 



made her despise the tempestuous oratory of the 
other. His ideals aud theories made Danton's acts 
and riots more odious. His refinement and melan- 
choly put in insupportable contrast the brutality and 
joviality of the great Commune leader. She could 
not see Danton's importance to the success of the 
Second Revolution, when absorbed in a personality 
so different. All political tactics and compromises 
seemed to her insignificant, trivial, unworthy in con- 
nection with her great passion. Undoubtedly, too, 
she hoped to see her lover take a position in the new 
legislature, — the Convention, — of which he was a 
member, which would make the Gironde so strong 
that it would not need Dan ton. 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 

TX the spring and summer of 1791, which the 
Rolands spent at the Hotel Britannique, they 
formed many relations which lasted throughout the 
Revolution. In this number was a member of the 
Constitutional Assembly, Franc,ois-Xicolas-Leonard 
Buzot, a young man thirty-one years of age, coming 
from Evreux, in Xorniancbr. Buzot had had the 
typical Gironde education, had been inspired by the 
Gironde heroes, and had adopted their theories. 

Like Manon Phlipon at Paris, Vergniaud at Bor- 
deaux, Barbarous at Marseilles, Charlotte Corday at 
Caen, Buzot had lived an intensely sentimental life, 
nourishing himself on dreams of noble deeds and 
relations ; like them, he had become devoted to a 
theory of complete regeneration; and like them, he 
had proudly flung himself into the Revolution, as- 
piring, inexperienced, impassioned, and confident. 

Son of a member of the court of Evreux, Buzot 
became a lawyer in that town, and took an active 
interest with the liberal and enlightened part of the 
community in the political struggles of the Revo- 

22G 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 227 

lution. When the notables were called together in 
1787, he was elected one of them. He aided in nam- 
ing the deputies to the States-General, in preparing 
the petition which the Third Estate sent to that body, 
and later was elected a deputy. But his real po- 
litical cares began in the Constituent Assembly, 
where he sat with the extreme Left. His attitude 
towards the confiscation of the property of the clergy 
is a specimen of his radicalism at this period. " In 
my judgment," he declared, " ecclesiastical property 
belongs to the nation," and this was at a moment 
when the right of the clergy to hold property had 
not been seriously questioned. 

When the Rolands came up to Paris in the spring 
of 1791, they found Buzot allied with that part of the 
Assembly most sympathetic to them and he supported, 
during the time they spent in the city, the measures 
which they advocated. 

He lived near the Rolands, and soon became a con- 
stant visitor at the house. His wife, an unattractive 
woman of no special intellectual cast, was neverthe- 
less amiable and sincere and the four fell into the 
habit of visiting back and forth and of often going 
in company to call on Petion and Brissot. 

Madame Roland was more and more attracted by 
Buzot's character as she watched him in the little 
circle. He not only held the same theories as she, 
but he developed them with ardor and a sort of pen- 
etrating and persuasive eloquence which stirred her 
sympathetic, oratory-loving nature. His courage was 



228 MADAME ROLAND 

endless, and it was combined with a pride and indif- 
ference to popular opinion, which harmonized with 
her notion that the ideal was to be kept in sight 
rather than the practical means of working towards 
it. His suspicion of others, even of some of their 
associates, based as it was on sentiments of patriotism, 
struck her as an evidence of unusual insight. 

Buzot had less of that gay versatility which annoyed 
her in many of her circle, and which seemed to her 
inconsistent with the serious condition of public 
affairs. His nature was grave and he looked at life 
with a passionate earnestness which gave a permanent 
shade of melancholy to his conduct and his thoughts. 
In affairs of great importance he became tragic in his 
solemn concern. In lighter matters he was rather 
sober and reflective. It was an attitude towards life 
which appealed deeply to Madame Roland. 

The gentleness of Buzot's character, the purity of 
his life, his susceptibility to sentiment, the strength 
of his feelings, his love for nature, his habit of revery, 
all touched her imagination and caused her to select 
him from the circle at the Hdtel Britannique as one 
possessing an especially just and sympathetic nature. 

When she left Paris, in the middle of September, 
1791, she found the parting with Buzot and his wife 
most trying. She was more deeply attached to 
them than she knew. But if the two families were 
to be separated, they were not to lose sight of each 
other. A correspondence was arranged between 
them, Avhich soon fell quite into the hands of 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 229 

Madame Roland and Buzot, as the correspondence 
had done before between the Rolands and other of their 
friends. Almost nothing remains of the letters ex- 
changed between them from the middle of September, 
1791, when she returned to Villefranche, and Septem- 
ber, 1792, when Buzot went back to Paris, a member 
of the Convention from Evreux, where he had been 
acting as president of the civil court. 

But it is not necessary to have the letters to form 
a clear idea of what they would be. Letters had 
always been a means of sentimental expansion for 
Madame Roland. She wrote, as she felt, invariably 
in the eloquent and glowing phrase which her emotion 
awakened ; now with pathos and longing, frequently 
with the real grace and playfulness which her more 
spontaneous and natural moods caused. Her letters 
were invariably deeply personal. It was her own 
life and feelings which permeated them, and it was 
the sentiments, the interests, the tastes of her corre- 
spondent, which she sought to draw out and to which 
she responded. An intimate and sympathetic corre- 
spondence of this sort, even if the pretext for it and 
the present topic of it is public affairs, as it was in 
this case, soon takes a large part in a life. Close 
exchange of thought and sentiment, complete and 
satisfactory, is, perhaps, the finest and truest, as it is 
the rarest, experience possible between a man and a 
woman. When once realized, it becomes infinitely 
precious. Madame Roland and Buzot poured out to 
each other all their ambitions and dreams, their joys 



230 MADAME ROLAND 

and their sorrows, sure of perfect understanding. 
At this time the thoughts which filled their minds 
were one, their emotions were one ; both relied more 
and more upon the correspondence for stimulus. 

To Buzot, harassed by petty criminal trials, and 
married to a woman who, whatever her worth, could 
never be more to him than his housekeeper and the 
mother of his children, this intimacy of thought, and 
hope, and despair appeared like a realization of the 
perfect Platonic dream, and Madame Roland became 
a sacred and glorified figure in his imagination. 

But if a man and woman carry on such a corre- 
spondence for a few months and then are suddenly 
thrown into constant intercourse, their relation be- 
comes at once infinitely delicate. It is only experi- 
ence, wisdom, womanly tact, and an enormous force 
of self-renunciation which can control such a situation 
and save the friendship. 

When Buzot and Madame Roland first met at 
the end of September, 1792, she was ill prepared 
for resistance. The Revolution had suddenly ap- 
peared to her fierce, bloody, desperate, — a thing 
to disown. She could no longer see in it the di- 
vinity she had been worshipping. Her disillusion 
had been terrible. The impotence and languor 
which follow disillusion enfeebled her will, weakened 
her splendid enthusiasm, and threatened to drive her 
to the conclusion that all effort is worthless. 

It must have been already evident to her that 
the men upon whom she relied as leaders were in- 



BUZOT AND MADAME BOLAND 231 

efficient. Roland, who had been the idol of the 
people until since the installation of the Commune, 
was utterly powerless to cope with the new force. 
She saw him reduced to defending his actions, to 
answering criticisms on his honesty; she felt that 
he was no longer necessary to the public cause ; it 
was a humiliation to her, and her interest in Ro- 
land lessened as his importance decreased. Brissot 
had no influence ; with a part of the Gironde, Ver- 
gniaud, Gensonne', Guadet, she was not intimate ; 
Robespierre was alienated; Danton she had refused 
to work with. But in Buzot there was hope. He 
had no record at Paris to hurt him. There were 
infinite possibilities in his position in the new Con- 
vention. Why should he not become the leader of 
the party, the spirit of the war between Gironde and 
Mountain, the opponent of Danton, the incarnation 
of her ideals? The hope she had in him as her 
spokesman, as a saviour of the situation, intensified 
the interest she felt for him as a friend and comrade. 
Personally, too, apart from all public questions, 
Buzot attracted her. His noble face, elegant man- 
ners, careful toilette, pleased her. She was a woman 
to the tips of her fingers, and Buzot's courtly air, 
his deference to her, his attentions, flattered and 
satisfied her. She found in him something of that 
" superiority," that " purity of language," that " dis- 
tinguished manner," the absence of which she had 
regretted in the patriots of the Constituent Assembly 
when she first came up to Paris. He presented, too, 



232 MADAME ROLAND 

a relief to Roland's carelessness in dress, to his in- 
difference to conventionalities. This superiority was 
the more attractive because it was in a man so 
young. Buzot's youth explains something of the 
ideality of the relation between them. A woman 
who preserves her illusions, her enthusiasms, her sen- 
timents, as Madame Roland had, up to thirty-eight, 
rarely finds in a man much older than herself the 
faith, the disinterestedness, the devotion to ideals, 
the purity of life and thought which she demands. 
She is continually shocked by his cynicism, his ex- 
perience, his impersonal attitude, his indifference. 
Life with him becomes practical and commonplace. 
It lacks in hours of self-revelation, in an intimacy 
of all that she feels deep and inspiring; there is 
no mystery in it — nothing of the unseen. But with 
a young man of a character and nature like Buzot, 
she finds a response to her noblest moods, her most 
elevated thoughts. 

A young man sees in a relation with a woman 
of such an elevation of thought as Madame Roland 
the type of his dreams, the woman to whom senti- 
ments and ideals are of far more importance than 
amusement and pleasure — the woman capable of 
great self-sacrifice for duty, of untiring action for 
a noble cause, of comprehension of all that is best 
in him, of brave resistance to temptation — and yet 
a woman to the last, dainty in her love of beauty, 
flattered by his homage, untiring in her efforts to 
please him, capable of a passion wide as the world. 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 233 

Buzot's relation to Madame Roland must have 
been the dearer to her because at the moment the 
intimacy which she had had with several of her 
friends was waning. With Roland working twenty 
hours out of the twenty-four, tormented by false 
accusations, conscious of his helplessness, irritated 
by dyspepsia and over-work, there could have been 
very little satisfactory personal intercourse. Their 
relation had come to the point to which every in- 
timate human relation must come, where forbear- 
ance, charity, a bit of humorous cynicism, courage, 
self-sacrifice, character, and nobility of heart must 
sustain it instead of dreams, transports, passion. 
She was incapable of the effort. 

Bosc was an old friend and a loving one, but their 
friendship had reached the stage where all has been 
said that could be, and while there was the security 
and satisfaction in it which comes from all things to 
which one is accustomed, — and it was necessary to 
her no doubt, — there was no novelty, no possible 
future. 

Bancal was interested in a Miss Williams, and since 
he had made that known to Madame Roland, she had 
been less expansive. No woman will long give her 
best to a man who holds another woman dearer. 

Lanthenas, who had been for years their friend, 
to whom she had given the title of "brother" and 
received in a free and frank intimacy, had begun to 
withdraw his sympathy. 

When Buzot came to Paris, it was natural and 



234 MADAME ROLAND 

inevitable that they should see much of each other. 
All things considered, it was natural, inevitable, 
perhaps, that love should come from their intimacy ; 
but that Madame Roland should have prevented the 
declaration of this love we have a right to expect 
when we remember her opinions, her habit of reflec- 
tion, and, above all, her experience. 

Madame Roland had never accepted, other than 
theoretically, the idea which at the end of the eigh- 
teenth century made hosts of advocates, — that love 
is its own justification ; that any civil or religious tie 
which prevents one following the dictates of his 
heart is unnatural and wrong. Nor did she accept 
for herself the practice then common in France, as it 
is still, and as it must be so long as marriage remains 
a matter of business, of keeping marriage ties for the 
sake of society, but of finding satisfaction for the 
affections in liaisons of which nobody complains so 
long as they are discreet, to use the French charac- 
terization. Her notions of duty, of devotion, of loy- 
alty, were those of the Nouvelle Heloise and allowed 
only marriage based on affection and preserved with 
fidelity to the end. Her theory of life and human 
relations would not allow her to be false to Roland. 
With such opinions she could not allow Buzot to 
declare the affection he felt. 

Had she been an inexperienced woman, such a 
declaration might have come naturally enough with- 
out any reproach for her ; she would have been un- 
prepared for it. Madame Roland was not inexpe- 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 235 

rienced. She knew all the probability there was of 
Buzot loving her and she was too skilled in the hu- 
man heart to believe herself incapable of a new love. 

Already she had been absorbed by passions whose 
realization at the moment had seemed necessary to 
her life. Her Platonic affection for Sophie Cannet 
was of an intensity rarely equalled by the most 
ardent love. For La Blancherie she had been ready 
to say that if she could not marry him she would 
marry no one. Roland, before their marriage, she had 
overwhelmed by her passion, and since she had fol- 
lowed him incessantly with protestations of affection. 
Certainly she knew by this time that impassioned 
love may grow cool and that the heart may re- 
cover its fire and vehemence. 

Nor had all her experience been before her mar- 
riage. She had not the excuse of those married 
women who suppose, in the simplicity of their inno- 
cence and purity, that once married there is no de- 
viation of affection or loyalty possible, and who, 
when circumstances throw them into relations where 
a new passion is awakened, are overpowered by shame 
and surprise. 

Her relations with different ones of her friends 
after her marriage had reached points which ought to 
have taught her serious lessons in self-repression and 
in tact. Bosc, with whom she was in correspondence 
from the time the Rolands left Paris for Amiens, 
became deeply attached to her. Their relation seems 
to have become more tender during the time that she 



236 MADAME ROLAND 

spent in Paris seeking a title, and this quite naturally 
because of the loss Bosc suffered then in the death of 
his father, and because of the very practical aid she 
had given him in taking care of his sister. Their 
correspondence, which, while she was at Amiens, was 
gay and unrestrained, an ideal correspondence for two 
good friends and comrades, later grew more delicate. 
Bosc was jealous and moody at times and caused her 
uneasiness and sorrow. When they passed through 
Paris, on their way to Villefranche, in September, 
1784, he found at their meeting some reason for dis- 
content in their relation with a person he disliked, 
and left them abruptly and angrily. 

The quarrel lasted some two months and was 
dismissed finally with good sense by Madame Roland 
telling Bosc playfully, "Receive a sound boxing, a 
hearty embrace, friendly and sincere — I am hungry 
for an old-fashioned letter from you. Burn this and 
let us talk no more of our troubles." 

After this whenever Bosc became too ardent in his 
letters, or inclined to jealousy, she treated him in this 
half -playful, half -matronly style. Her principle witli 
him remained from the first to the last that there 
could be between them no ignorance of the question 
of their duty. 

The experience with Bosc had taught her the 
strong probability that a man admitted to such inti- 
mate relations would, at some period in the friend- 
ship, fall more or less in love ; and it had shown her, 
too, that it is possible for a woman to control this 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 237 

delicate relation and insure a healthy and inspiring 
relation. In short, Madame Roland had reason to 
congratulate herself, as she did with her usual self- 
complacency, on her wisdom and her tact in handling 
Vami Bosc. Whether she would not have been less 
wise if she had been less in love with her husband, or 
Bosc had been of a different nature, a little less dry 
and choleric, it is not necessary to speculate here. 

She was quite as happy in directing her relations 
with Dr. Lanthenas, whom it will be remembered 
Roland had picked up in Italy before their marriage, 
who had come back with him, who had visited them 
often at Amiens, and who had lived with them at Le 
Clos, where an apartment on the first floor is still 
called Lanthenas' room. He was associated in all 
their planning, and in 1790, when Roland, disgusted 
with the turn politics had taken, sighed for Pennsyl- 
vania, Lanthenas suggested that the Rolands, and 
one of his friends at Paris, Bancal des Issart, and he 
himself should buy a piece of national property — 
the State had just confiscated some millions' worth 
of clerical estates and was selling them cheap — and 
should establish together a community where they 
could not fail to lead an existence ideal in its peace, 
its enthusiasm, its growth. 

This Utopia was discussed at length in their letters, 
and several pieces of property near Lyons and Cler- 
mont, where Bancal lived, were visited. Roland 
was thoroughly taken with the idea, but Madame 
Roland, while she saw all the advantages, discovered a 



238 MADAME ROLAND 



possible danger. If she had been able to resist the 
siege to her heart by Bosc and Lanthenas, even to 
win them over as allies, her relation with Bancal des 
Issarts had taken almost immediately a turn more 
serious for her. She was herself touched and inter- 
ested, and her policy when she felt her heart moved 
was most questionable. Instead of concealing her 
feelings and mastering them, she poured them out to 
Bancal himself in a way to excite his sympathy and 
to inflame his passion. Indeed, the turn their corre- 
spondence took in a few months reminds one forcibly 
of the letters of Manon Phlipon to M. Roland in the 
days when, feeling herself moved by his attentions, 
she drew a declaration out of him by portraying a 
state of heart which no man who was as decidedly 
interested as Roland was, could resist. 

It was the new community winch troubled her. 
Bancal had shown himself so eager for it, she her- 
self saw such a charm in it, that she became alarmed. 
To a letter of Bancal's, which we can suppose to 
have been fervid, but which was not so much so that 
Roland was annoyed by it, it being he who had re- 
ceived it and sent it on to her, she replied : " My 
mind is busy with a thousand ideas, agitated by 
tumultuous sentiments. Why is it that my eyes are 
blinded by constant tears ? My will is firm, my heart 
is pure, and yet I am not tranquil. ' It will be the 
greatest charm of our life and we shall be useful to 
our fellows,' you say of the affection which unites 
us, and these consoling words have not restored my 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 239 

peace. I am not sure of your happiness and I 
should never forgive myself for having disturbed it. 
I have believed that you were feeding it on a hope 
that I ought to forbid. Who can foresee the effect 
of violent agitations, too often renewed? Would 
they not be dangerous if they left only that languor 
which weakens the moral being and which makes it 
unequal to the situation? I am wrong. You do 
not experience this unworthy alternative, you could 
never be weak. The idea of your strength brings 
back mine. I shall know how to enjoy the happi- 
ness that Heaven has allotted me, believing that it 
has not allowed me to trouble you." 

She was quite conscious of her inconsistency, but 
with the feminine propensity for finding an excuse 
for an indiscretion, she charged it on the construc- 
tion of society, — a construction which, it should be 
noted, she had years ago convinced herself to be 
necessary, and which she had repeatedly accepted, 
so that there was not the excuse for her that there 
is for those who have never reflected that human 
laws and codes of morals are simply the best possible 
arrangement thus far found for men and women get- 
ting on together without a return to the savage state, 
and have never made a tacit compact with themselves 
to be law-abiding because they saw the reason for 
being so. 

"Why is it," she writes, "that this sheet that I 
am writing you cannot be sent to you openly ? Why 
can one not show to all that which one would dare 



240 MADAME ROLAND 

offer to Divinity itself? Assuredly I can call upon 
Heaven, and take it as a witness of my vow and of 
my intentions; I find pleasure in thinking that it 
sees me, hears me, and judges me. . . . When shall 
we see each other again ? Question that I ask myself 
often, and that I dare not answer." 

Bancal went to Le Clos, and evidently, from 
passages in their subsequent letters, there passed 
between them some scene of passion. 

Later, Bancal went to London to propagate the 
ideas of the patriots, but Lanthenas and Roland be- 
came anxious that he return to Paris to help them 
there. Madame Roland dared not advise him to 
return, though she could not conceal her pleasure 
at the idea that he might, and that, too, after she 
was again at Paris. 

"Do as you think best," she wrote ; "at any rate 
I shall not have the false delicacy to conceal from 
you that I am going to Paris, and shall even push 
my frankness to confessing that this circumstance 
adds much to my scruples in writing you to return. 
There is, in this situation, an infinite number of 
things which one feels but cannot explain, but that 
which is very clear, and which I say frankly to 
you, is that I wish never to see you bend to light con- 
siderations or to half affections. Remember that if 
I need the happiness of my friends this happiness is 
attached, for those who feel like us, to an absolute 
irreproachalilit y ■." 

It was by this constant return to the subject that 






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Inscription written by Madame Roland on the back of the portrait of Buzot 
which she carried while in prison. 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 241 

she kept the relation between herself and Bancal 
"interesting." It was by holding up her duty — 
the necessity of "virtue" — that she provoked him. 
It was the "coquetry of virtue" which Dumouriez 
found in her. 

But when Madame Roland went up to Paris she 
found other interests, new friends. Bancal received 
less attention, and he, occupied in making new 
friends, gave less attention ; gradually the personal 
tone dropped from their letters, and by the fall of 
1792 the correspondence had become purely patri- 
otic. The friendship became of still less moment to 
Madame Roland when Bancal revealed to her his 
love for Miss Williams, a young English girl who 
had been attracted to Paris by the Revolution, and 
there had become associated with the Girondins. 

The affair with Bancal des Issarts proves Madame 
Roland to have had no more discretion than an 
ordinary woman when her heart was engaged, and 
drives one to the reluctant conclusion that in her 
case, as in the majority of cases, she was saved from 
folly by circumstances. 

By experience and by reflection, then, she was 
armed. Indeed, on whatever side we regard the 
revelation of her love to Buzot, she was blamable 
save one — and that of importance. In the general 
dissolution of old ideas, in the return, in theory, 
to the state of nature, which intellectual France had 
made, every law of social life, as every law of gov- 
ernment, had been traced to its origin, and its rea- 



242 MADAME BOLASB' 

sonableness and justice questioned in the light of 
pure theory. Marriage had come under the general 
dissection. Love is a divine law, a higher wisdom. 
It is unjust, unreasonable, unnatural, to separate 
those who love because of any previous tie. It is 
the natural right of man to be happy. 

This opinion in the air had affected Madame Ro- 
land. She found it " bizarre and cruel " that two 
people should be chained together whom differences 
of age. of sentiment, of character, have rendered 
incompatible ; and although she would not consent 
to take advantage of this theory and leave Roland, 
it justified her in loving Buzot and in telling him so. 

It was not only the new ideas on love and mar- 
riage which influenced her. In the chaos of laws, 
of usages, of ideas, of aspirations, of hopes in which 
she found herself, there seemed nothing worth saving 
but this. The Revolution was stained and horrible. 
Her friends were helpless, she herself seemed to be 
no longer of any use, — why not seize the one last 
chance of joy? When the efforts and enthusiasms 
of one's youth suddenly show themselves to be but 
illusions, and the end of life seems to be at hand, can 
it be expected that human nature with its imperious 
demand for happiness refuse the last chance offered? 
Remember, too, that never in the world's history had 
a class of people believed more completely in the 
right to happiness, never demanded it more fully. 

At all events Madame Roland and Buzot declared 
their love. But this was not enough for her; she felt 



BUZOT AND MADAME ROLAND 243 

that she could not deceive Roland and she told him 
that she loved Buzot, but that since it was her duty 
to stay with him (Roland) she would do it, and that 
she would be faithful to her marriage vows. All 
considerations of kindliness, of reserve, of womanly 
tenderness, of honor, should have dictated to Madame 
Roland that if she really had no intention of yield- 
ing to her love, as she certainly never had, it was 
useless and cruel to torment Roland at his age, with 
failing health, and in his desperate public position, 
with the story of her passion. He loved her de- 
votedly, and she had incessantly worked to excite 
and deepen this love — to be told now that she loved 
another must wound him in his deepest affections. 
But she had a sentimental need of frankness. She 
loved expansion; she must open her heart to him. 
In doing it she heaped upon the overburdened old 
man the heaviest load a heart can carry, that of the 
desertion of its most trusted friend and companion, 
and that after years of association and almost daily 
renewal of vows of love and fidelity. 

Absorbed by her passion, she found it unreasonable 
and vexing that Roland should take her confession 
to heart, that he did not rejoice over her candor and 
accept her " sacrifice " with gratitude and tears. In 
her Memoirs she says of Roland's attitude towards 
the affair: 

"I honor and cherish my husband as a sensitive 
daughter adores a virtuous father, to whom she 
would sacrifice even her lover ; but I found the man 



r .~ 






: :: 



XI 



THE ROLANDS TURN AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 

"FTP ON Roland the effect of the atrocities of Sep- 
^ tember, and the consciousness of his own power- 
lessness, was terrible. His health was undermined ; 
he could not eat ; his skin became yellow ; he did 
not sleep; his step was feeble, but his activity was 
feverish ; he worked night and day. Having a chance 
to become a member of the new legislative body, the 
Convention to meet September 21st, he sent in his res- 
ignation as Minister of the Interior. The resignation 
raised a cry from the Gironde, and hosts of anxious 
patriots urged him to remain. 

In the session of September 29th, the question came 
up in the Convention of inviting Roland, and those 
of his colleagues who had resigned with him, to re- 
main in office. His enemies did not lose the oppor- 
tunity to attack him. Danton even went so far as to 
say : " If you invite him, invite Madame Roland too ; 
everybody knows that he has not been alone in his 
department." 

This discussion, and the discovery that his elec- 
tion as deputy would be illegal, persuaded Roland to 

245 



246 MADAME EOLAND 

withdraw his resignation. He announced his deci- 
sion in an address which was an unmistakable ar- 
raignment of the Commune and the Mountain, an 
announcement that the Minister of the Interior, in 
remaining in office, remained as their enemy. He 
abandoned in this same address an important point 
of his old policy. Formerly it had been to Paris that 
he had appealed. She alone had the energy, the fire, 
the daring to act. The rest of the country was apa- 
thetic, passionless ; but now he says Paris has done 
all that is necessary. She must retire, " must be re- 
duced to her eighty-third portion of influence ; a more 
extensive influence would excite fears, and nothing 
would be more harmful to Paris than the discontent 
or suspicion of the departments — no representations, 
however numerous, should acquire an ascendency 
over the Convention." 

At that particular moment no policy could have 
been more antagonistic to the Parisian populace. 
They were "saving the country." None but a 
traitor would oppose their efforts. Roland not only 
declared that they must cease their work ; he called 
for an armed force drawn from all the departments 
and stationed about Paris to prevent the city from 
interfering with the free action of the Convention. 
The suspicion which before the 10th of August he 
had applied to the constitutional party he now turned 
upon the party which had produced that day; the 
measure he had proposed to prevent the treason of 
the Court, he now proposed as a guard against the 
excesses of the patriots. 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 247 

He ran a Bureau of Public Opinion, which scat- 
tered thousands of documents filled with the eloquent 
and vague teachings of the Gironde schools. He 
urged the pastors to stop singing the Domine Sal- 
vum fac Regnum, and to translate their services into 
French ; he discoursed upon how and when the word 
citizen should be used, advised a national costume, 
suggested that scenes from the classics be regularly 
reproduced in public to stir to patriotism, that fetes 
celebrating every possible anniversary be instituted ; 
but chiefly he defended himself against the charges of 
his antagonists, extolling his own impeccability and 
the exactness of his accounts. No sadder reading 
ever was printed than the campaign of words Roland 
carried on during the four months he struggled 
against the Mountain. Fearless, sincere, honest, dis- 
interested as he was, he was still so pitifully in- 
adequate to the situation, so ridiculously subjective 
in his methods, that .irritation at his impotence is 
forgotten in the compassion it awakens. 

While Roland carried on his Bureau of Public 
Opinion and defended his character, Buzot, in the 
Convention, fought the Mountain more openly and 
more bitterly. He had no excuse whatever for the 
excesses of September; no veil to draw over the 
first twenty-four hours, no patience, no thought of 
compromise with Robespierre and Danton, the lead- 
ers of the Commune. To his mind they were mur- 
derers pure and simple, and the country was not 
worth saving, if it could not be saved without them. 



248 MADAME ROLAND 

In Roland's case there is always the feeling that if 
the Commune had regarded him as necessary, obeyed 
his directions, let him run his Public Opinion Office 
to suit himself, and ceased maligning his character, 
he would have condoned their massacre as one of 
the unhappy but necessary means of insuring the 
Revolution ; that if these " misled brothers," as he 
called them, had recognized their mistake, he would 
have opened his arms to them. Never so with Buzot. 
Sensitive, idealistic, indifferent to public applause, 
from the first he took a violent and pronounced posi- 
tion against the Mountain, and refused to compro- 
mise with them. It was not hatred alone of the 
excesses. It was sympathy with Madame Roland, 
who had revolted against the Revolution. From 
the day at Evreux, when he received a letter from 
her, telling of her disgust and disillusion, and set- 
ting up a new cause, — the purification of the coun- 
try of agitators and rioters, — Buzot's ideas on the 
policy of Terror changed. When he came up to 
the Convention he immediately made a violent at- 
tack on Robespierre, declared that the Mountain was 
the most dangerous foe of the county, that Paris 
was usurping the power of France, and he never 
ceased his war. 

The measure which Madame Roland had sug- 
gested a few months before to protect Paris, the 
patriots, and the Assembly against the aristocrats, 
he now proposed to thwart the activity of Paris and 
the Commune, — a guard drawn from all the depart- 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 249 

ments for the defence of the Convention. Naturally, 
this drew upon him the hatred of the sections and 
leaders, and he was accounted in the Convention, 
from the 1st of October, the avowed opponent of 
the Terrorists. 

Nothing intimidated him. He followed up the 
proposition for a guard by a demand for a decree 
against those who provoked to murder and assassi- 
nation. Systematically he refused to believe in the 
sincerity of Robespierre and Danton, — they were 
usurpers aiming at dictatorship. When in March 
they sought to organize a revolutionary tribunal, 
Buzot, furious and trembling, declared to the Con- 
vention that he was weary of despotism. He sig- 
nalled the abuses that were made all over France 
by the revolutionary bodies, and violently attacked 
members of the Jacobin society and of the Moun- 
tain, denouncing them as infamous wretches, as 
assassins of the country. It was not only murder 
of which he accused them, — it was corruption. 
" Sudden and scandalous fortunes " were noted among 
the Terrorists in the Convention, — and he demanded 
that each deputy give the condition and origin of his 
fortune. 

In all these measures Buzot was in harmony with 
Roland, and he fought the minister's cause in the 
Convention so far as possible. Indeed, it came to 
be a sort of personal resentment he showed when 
Roland was attacked in the body, and once he went 
so far that they cried out to him, "It is not you we 



250 MADAME BOLAND 

are talking about." It was a lover's jealousy against 
anything which harmed his lady. 

But while attacking the Terrorists Buzot was 
obliged to prove his patriotism, to show that he was 
a republican, and a hater of the monarchy. He did 
it by radical measures. While insisting on an armed 
force to protect the Convention, he demanded the 
perpetual banishment of the emigres, and their death 
if they set foot in France. A few weeks later he 
demanded that whosoever should propose the re-es- 
tablishment of royalty in France, under whatsoever 
denomination, should be punished by death; after- 
wards he asked the banishment of all the Bourbons, 
not excepting Philippe of Orleans, then sitting in the 
Convention. 

When it came to the question of the death of 
Louis XVI., Buzot wished that the King be heard 
and not condemned immediately; when he came to 
vote, it was for his death with delay and a referendum 
that he decided. 

But no amount of violence against the royalists 
could now prove him a patriot. That which made 
a patriot in the fall of 1792 was an altogether 
different thing from what made one in the spring of 
1792. Buzot, with the Gironde, was suspected. It 
was not enough that he opposed the old regime and 
approved a Republic, he must approve the vengeance 
of Terrorism and support the Terrorists. But he 
could not 'do it. He was revolted by the awful 
excess, and he underwent a physical repulsion which 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 251 

was almost feminine and made any union with the 
party impossible, whatever the demands of politics 
were. 

As a matter of fact, the Mountain feared Buzot 
but little. His irritability, haughtiness, lack of 
humor, made him of small importance as a leader 
in the Gironde. He could not move the Convention 
as Vergniaud ; he had none of the wire-pulling skill 
of Brissot; he was important chiefly as the spokes- 
man of Madame Roland's measures. Buzot's in- 
timate relations to the Rolands seem to have been 
well understood. The contemptuous way in which 
Marat treated him shows this. Marat called him 
frere tranquille Buzot; and sneered at him for " de- 
claiming in a ridiculous tone " ; said the frere tran- 
quille had a pathos glacial; called him le pedant 
Buzot; the corypheus of the Rolands. 

In this chaotic and desperate struggle neither 
Roland nor Buzot were more active than Madame 
Roland. She had become a public factor by Marat's 
accusations, and by Danton's sneers in the Con- 
vention. She kept her place. At home she was 
as active as ever in assisting her husband. Many 
of the official papers of this period, which have 
been preserved, are in her hand, or have been 
annotated by her. Important circulars and reports 
she frequently prepared, and Roland trusted her 
implicitly in such work. She was his adviser and 
helper in every particular of the official work, and 
at the same time saw many people who were essen- 



252 MADAME ROLAND 

tial to them. This social activity brought down 
Marat's abuse. She was "Penelope Roland" for 
him, and in one number of the journal under the 
head "Le Trantran de la Penelope Roland," he 
wrote: " The woman Roland has a very simple means 
of recruiting. Does a deputy need her husband 
for affairs of the department, Roland pretends a 
multiplicity of engagements and begs to put him 
off until after the Assembly, — ' Come and take sup- 
per with us, citizen and deputy, we* will talk of your 
business afterwards.' The woman Roland cajoles 
the guests one after the other, even en portant la 
main sous le menton de ses favoris, redoubles attention 
for the new-comer, who soon joins the clique." 

Marat professes to have this from a deputy who 
had visited her. It is abusive and false, but it is 
well to remember that a year before Madame Roland 
had not hesitated to believe and repeat equally ridic- 
ulous stories of Marie Antoinette. Indeed, Madame 
Roland had the same place in the minds of the 
patriots of the fall of 1792, that the Queen had a 
year before in the minds of the Gironde. " We have 
destroyed royalty," says Pere Duchesne, "and in 
its place we have raised a tyranny still more odious. 
The tender other half of the virtuous Roland has 
France in leading-strings to-day, as once the Pompa- 
dours and the Du Barrys. She receives every even- 
ing at the hour of the bats in the same place where 
Antoinette plotted a new Saint Bartholomew with 
the Austrian committee. Like the former Queen, 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 253 

Madame Coco (the name Pere Duchesne usually 
gives Madame Roland), stretched on a sofa, sur- 
rounded by her wits, reasons blindly on war, politics, 
supplies. It is in this gambling-den that all the 
announcements posted up are manufactured." 

In December she was even obliged to appear before 
the Convention. Roland had been accused of being 
in correspondence with certain eminent emigres then 
in England, and to be plotting with them the re- 
establishment of the King. One Viard was said to 
be the go-between, and to have had a meeting with 
Madame Roland. Roland was summoned to answer 
the charge and, having responded, demanded that his 
wife be heard. Her appearance made a sensation in 
the Convention, and she cleared herself so well of 
the charges that she was loudly applauded, and was 
accorded the honors of the session. The spectators 
alone were silent and Marat remarked, " See how 
still the people are ; they are wiser than we." 

At the beginning of the year 1793, the danger 
of mob violence was added to the incessant slan- 
ders by Hebert and Marat. "Every day," says 
Champagneux, who was then employed by the min- 
ister, " a new danger appeared. It seemed as if 
each night would be the last of her life, as if an 
army of assassins would profit by the darkness to 
come and murder her as well as her husband. 
The most sinister threats came from all sides. She 
was urged not to sleep at the H6tel of the Interior." 

At first the alarm was so great on her account 



254 MADAME ROLAND 

that she yielded to her friends' wishes, but she 
hated the idea of flight. One evening the danger 
was such that every one insisted on her disguis- 
ing herself and leaving the hotel. She consented, but 
the wig they brought did not fit, and in a burst 
of impatience she flung the costume, wig and all, 
into the corner and declared she was ashamed of 
herself; that if any one wanted to assassinate her, 
he might do it there ; that she ought to give an 
example of firmness and she would. And from 
that day she never left the hotel until Roland 
resigned on January 2 2d. 

The little apartment in the Rue de la Harpe 
was waiting them. To leave the H6tel of the 
Interior was no trial to them privately. No one 
could have been more indifferent to considerations 
of position and surroundings. Their convictions of 
their own right-doing made them superior to all 
influences which affect worldly and selfish natures. 
It is impossible for such people as the Rolands to 
" come down " in life. Material considerations are 
so external, so mere an incident, that they can go 
from palace to hut without giving the matter a 
second thought. But retirement did not mean re- 
lief. Roland's reports which he had made to the 
Convention, and which he felt justly were a com- 
plete answer to the charges against him, were 
unnoticed. He begged the body repeatedly to ex- 
amine them. He urged his ill-health and his de- 
sire to leave Paris as a reason, but no notice was 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 255 

taken of him. To Roland this neglect seemed inso- 
lence. He felt that he deserved honorable recogni- 
tion. He craved it, and was irritated and discouraged 
when he did not receive it. 

It was evident, too, that his retirement from 
office had not made his enemies forget him. They 
followed him as they had priests, emigres, and no- 
bles, and Marat repeatedly denounced him as con- 
nected with the opposition to the Mountain. 

It was horrible for them to watch day after day 
the struggle going on in the Convention between 
Gironde and Mountain. Day by day the condition 
of the former grew more desperate, their defeat 
and the triumph of the policy of vengeance more 
certain. The most tragic part of the gradual 
downfall of the Gironde was not defeat, however. 
It was disillusion — the slow-growing and uncon- 
fessed suspicion that their dream had been an 
error. It was Buzot who felt this most deeply. 
In his Memoirs he confesses that gradually he 
grew convinced that France was not fitted for the 
Republic they had dared to give it, and that often 
he had been at the point of owning his mistake : 

"My friends and I kept our hope of a Republic 
in France for a long time," he writes ; " even when 
everything seemed to show us that the enlightened 
class, either through prejudice or guided by ex- 
perience and reason, refused this form of govern- 
ment. My friends did not give up this hope even 
at the period when those who governed the Repub- 



256 MADAME ROLAND 

lie were the most vicious and the vilest of men, 
and when the French people could be least counted 
on. . . . For myself, I avow that I despaired sev- 
eral times of the success of this project so dear to 
my heart. Before my expulsion from the Conven- 
tion, not wishing to betray my conscience or my 
principles, I was on the point, several times, of re- 
tiring from a position where all the dangers, even 
that of dishonoring my memory, left me no hope 
of doing good; where even our obstinate and use- 
less resistance did nothing but increase the error 
of good citizens on the true situation of the Na- 
tional Convention. A kind of self-love which was 
honored by the name of duty kept me at my post 
in spite of myself. My friends desired it and I 
stayed. ... It is useless to deny it — the majority 
of the French people sighed after royalty and the 
constitution of 1790. There were only a few men 
with noble and elevated souls who felt worthy of 
having been born republicans, and whom the example 
of America had encouraged to follow the project 
of a similar institution in France, who thought in 
good faith to naturalize it in the country of frivol- 
ities and inconstancy. The rest — with the exception 
of a crowd of wretches without intelligence, with- 
out education, and without resources, who vomited 
injuries on the monarchy as in six months they 
will on the Republic, without knowing any reason 
why — the rest did not desire it, wanted only the 
constitution of 1791, and talked of the true re- 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 257 

publicans as one talks of extremely sincere fools. 
Have the events of the 20th of June, the suffering, 
the persecution, the assassinations which have fol- 
lowed them, changed the opinion of the majority in 
France? No; but in the cities they pretend to be 
sans-culottes ; those that do not are guillotined. In 
the country the most unjust requisitions are obeyed, 
because those who do not obey them are guillotined; 
on all sides the young go to war, because those who 
do not go are guillotined. The guillotine explains 
everything. It is the great weapon of the French 
government. This people is republican because of 
the guillotine. Examine closely, go into families, 
search the hearts if they dare open to you; you 
will read there hate against the government that 
fear imposes upon them. You will see there that 
all desires, all hopes, turn towards the constitution 
of 1791." 

That Buzot should have remained until the end 
with the Gironde, when convinced, as he here says, 
that their efforts for a Republic were contrary to the 
will of the country, and when, too, he was revolted 
against the excesses its establishment was causing, 
he explained fully, when he wrote : " My error was 
too beautiful to be repented of ; " and again, when 
he says : " Our dream was too beautiful to be aban- 
doned." 

The terrible whirlpool had dragged away hopes, 
ambitions, dreams, from them. Into it went, too, 
some of their most valued friends ; men whom they 



258 MADAME ROLAND 

had raised to positions of importance, but who now 
that they saw the party defeated abandoned them 
through fear and disillusion. At the same time that 
they were experiencing all the force of their disillu- 
sion, the relation between Roland and his wife was 
becoming terribly tense and painful. They felt that 
they must bring it to an end in some way, must get 
away from Buzot, and they resolved to go to the 
country. In May Roland wrote, for the eighth time, 
to the Convention, begging that the report on his ad- 
ministration be examined. His letter was not even 
read to the body. It became more and more prob- 
able that threats which had followed them a long 
time would take effect soon, and Roland be arrested. 
Madame Roland decided that she ought not to re- 
main in Paris with her daughter any longer, as Ro- 
land could escape more easily if they were at Le 
Clos. Her health, too, sadly altered by the storm of 
emotions which she had passed through, demanded a 
change. 

The passports permitting them to leave Paris had 
been delayed some days, and just as she received 
them she fell ill. She was not herself again when 
the 31st of May came. This day was for the Gironde 
what the 10th of August had been for the King. 

During the latter half of May the Convention had 
been the scene of one of the maddest, awfulest strug- 
gles in the history of legislative bodies, and the 
victory had throughout leaned towards the Terrorists. 
They were decided, and audacious. The indecision, 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 259 

the platitudes, the disgust, of the Gironde weakened 
the party constantly. The struggle was ended by the 
riot of May 31st. Before the contest was over the 
Convention had voted the expulsion and trial of 
twenty-two members of the Gironde. Again the 
stick was out of the wheel, and the Republic was to 
roll. 

Roland was not in the number that the Mountain 
could strike through the Convention. It had a much 
more direct and simple, a more legal, method of reach- 
ing him. Its Revolutionary committee had already 
been in operation some time. Its work was arrest- 
ing those who stood in the way of the Republic. 
That Roland did, Marat had proved time and again, 
and now that the time had come to rid the country 
of the Gironde in toto, it would never do to let him 
escape. 

It was on the afternoon of May 31st that the 
arrest of Roland was made at their apartment in 
the Rue de la Harpe. Arrests at this period were so 
arbitrary a matter, the sympathy or resentment of 
the officers and spectators had so much to do with 
their execution or non-execution, that it is not sur- 
prising that Roland by his own protestations and 
arguments, and by the aid of the good people of the 
house who were friendly to him, was able to induce 
the officer in charge to leave his colleagues and go 
after further orders. 

Madame Roland took advantage of the delay to 
attempt a coup d'etat, go to the Convention, secure 



260 MADAME ROLAND 

a hearing, present Roland's case, and trust to her 
beauty, her wit, and her eloquence to obtain his re- 
lease. In her morning gown, for she was only just 
on her sick-bed, she sprung into a cab and drove to 
the Carrousel. The front court was filled with armed 
men ; every entrance was guarded. With the great- 
est difficulty she reached the waiting-room and at- 
tempted to get a hearing from the president. A 
terrible uproar came from the Assembly, and after 
a long wait she learned what it meant, — the demand 
for the arrest of the twenty-two was being made. 

She sent for Vergniaud and explained the situa- 
tion. She could hope for nothing in the condition 
of affairs in the Assembly, — he told her the Con- 
vention was able to do nothing more. "It can do 
everything," she cried; "the majority of Paris only 
asks to know what ought to be done. If I am ad- 
mitted, I shall dare say what you could not without 
being accused. I fear nothing in the world, and 
if I do not save Roland, I shall say what will be use- 
ful to the Republic." But what use to insist in this 
chaos? Not Vergniaud, not Buzot, not the Gironde 
as a body, had the power at this final moment to 
secure a hearing. She was forced to give it up and 
retire ; not so easy a matter through the suspicious 
battalions guarding the approaches to the chateau. 
She was even obliged to leave her cab at last and go 
home on foot. 

Back in the apartment she found that Roland had 
escaped. She went from house to house until she 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 261 

found him. They talked over the situation, he con- 
cluded to fly, she decided to go again to the Con- 
vention, and they parted. 

In spite of weakness and fatigue Madame Roland 
made, that night, another attempt to reach the Con- 
vention. But when she reached the palace the ses- 
sion was closed. After infinite difficulty from the 
citizens who guarded the Tuileries she reached her 
home again. She had seated herself to write a note 
to Roland when, about midnight, a deputation from 
the Commune presented itself, asking for Roland. 
She refused to answer their questions, and they re- 
tired, leaving a sentinel at the door of the apartment 
and at that of the house. She finished her letter 
and went to bed. In an hour she was awakened. 
Her frightened servant told her that delegates from 
the section wanted to see her. With perfect calm 
she dressed herself for the street and passed into the 
room where the commissioners waited. 

"We come, Citoyenne, to arrest you and put on 
the seals." 

"Where are your orders?" 

" Here," says a man drawing an order of arrest from 
the Revolutionary committee of the Commune. No 
reason of arrest is assigned in the document, which 
still exists, and the order given is to place her in the 
Abbaye to be questioned the next day. She hesi- 
tated. Should she resist? But what was the use? 
She was in their eyes mise hors de la lot and she sub- 
mitted, not sorry at heart perhaps, to be put into a 



262 MADAME ROLAND 

position where she could resist publicly the tyranny of 
her enemies. Reinforced by officers from the section, 
and by lift}' to a hundred good sans-culottes come to 
see that the officers do their duty according to their 
sovereign will, the commissioners placed seals on 
boxes and doors, windows and wardrobes. One zeal- 
ous patriot wanted to put one on the piano. They 
told him it was a musical instrument. Thereupon 
he contented himself with pulling out a yardstick 
and taking its dimensions. 

In this ignorant, vulgar, and violent crowd she 
came and went serenely, preparing for her imprison- 
ment. She even noted with amusement their curi- 
osity and stupidity. It was morning when she left 
her weeping household. " These people love you," 
said one of the commissioners, as they went down- 
stairs. "I never have any one about me who does 
not," she replied proudly. 

Two rows of armed men extended from the doorway 
across the Rue de la Harpe to the carriage, waiting 
on the other side of the street. She looked about 
as she came out, at all this display of force, at the 
crowd of curious Parisian badauds who watched 
the scene, and with conscious dignity she advanced 
" slowly considering the cowardly and mistaken 
troop." It is a short five minutes' walk from where 
Madame Roland lived to the prison of the Abbaye 
and she soon was within the walls. 

Two days later, June 2d, the arrest of Buzot was 
decreed by the Convention. He was seized but es- 



AGAINST THE REVOLUTION 263 

caped from his guards, and fled from Paris to Evreux, 
where he was well received by the department which 
believed that the Convention had been forced into 
its decree against the twenty-two. Roland in the 
meantime had reached Amiens. The three were 
never to see one another again. The cause which 
brought them together had separated them forever. 



XII 



IN PRISON 

TT was the morning of the first day of June, 1792, 
-^ that Madame Roland was taken to the Abbaye. 
The imprisonment then begun lasted until November 
8th, the day of her death. The record we have of 
her life during these five months is full and intimate. 

Separated from her child, her husband in flight, 
her friends persecuted by the Commune, she herself 
only just off a sick-bed, confined in a prison which 
had been from the beginning of the Revolution a 
centre of riot and the floors of whose halls and courts 
were still warm with the blood of the massacre of 
September, the cries of a la Guillotine following her 
from the street, it would not have been strange if 
her courage had failed, if she had paled before the 
fate which she knew in all probability awaited her. 
But from the beginning to the end of her long du- 
rance she showed a proud indifference to the result, 
an almost reckless audacity in braving her enemies, 
a splendid courage in suffering. She was serene, 
haughty, triumphant, a man, not a woman. 

She declared that she would not exchange the mo- 

264 



IN PRISON 265 



ments which followed her entrance into the Abbaye 
for those which others would call the sweetest of her 
life. Indifferent to her surroundings, she sank into 
a reveiy, reviewing her past: there was nothing to 
make her blush, she felt, even if her heart was the 
scene of a powerful passion. She calculated the 
future and with pride and joy felt that she had the 
courage to accept her lot, to defy its rigors. " What 
can compare to a good conscience, a strong purpose," 
she cries. There is nothing in her situation which is 
worth an instant of unrest. Her enemies shall not 
prevent her loving to the last, and if they destroy 
her she will go from life as one enters upon repose. 
And this high serenity endured even when, twenty- 
four days later, she suffered one of the most cruel 
and unnecessary outrages of the Revolution. On 
June 24th, she was freed. Hurrying home to the 
Rue de la Harpe, she flew into the house " like a bird," 
calling a gay good-day to her concierge. She had 
not mounted four steps of her staircase before two 
men who had entered at her heels called : 

" Citoyenne Roland." 

"What do you want?" 

" In the name of the law we arrest you." 

That night she slept in the prison of Sainte Pelagie, 
only a stone's throw from the convent where as a 
girl she had prepared for her first communion. 

The bitter disappointment of reimprisonment did 
not bend her spirit. " I am proud," she wrote, some 
hours after her rearrest, "to be persecuted at a 



266 MADAME ROLAND 

moment when talent and honor are being proscribed. 
I am assuredly more tranquil in my chains than my 
oppressors are in the exercise of their unjust power. 
I confess that the refinement of cruelty with which 
they ordered me to be set at liberty in order to re- 
arrest me a moment afterwards, has fired me with in- 
dignation. 1 can no longer see where this tyranny 
will go." This indignation was so bitter that the 
first night in her new prison she could not sleep. 
It was only the first night, however. To allow her- 
self to be irritated by the injustice of her enemies 
was to be their dupe. She would not give them 
that satisfaction, and this intrepidity endured to the 
end. 

There are several reasons for her really phenome- 
nal fortitude. At the bottom of it was no doubt the 
fact that material considerations had no influence on 
her when they came into conflict with sentiments and 
enthusiasms. An ordinary woman would have paled 
with fear at the sound of women shouting into her 
carriage a la guillotine; the crowded halls of the 
Abbaye, the tocsin sounding all night, the brutality 
of the officers and guards, would have sickened her 
soul; the narrow and dirty staircases, the bare and 
foul-smelling rooms, would have revolted her deli- 
cacy; the dreadful associations filled her with shame 
and disgust. But Madame Roland found inspiration 
in the thought of enduring all this. She would not 
allow her soul to be moved by filth and noise, and 
she moved serenely among the lowest outcasts. 



IN PRISON 267 



These things were externals, mere incidents in life. 
Thej had no real importance in themselves. She 
would use them to school her soul to more steadfast 
endurance, — certainly she would never allow them 
to interfere with her soul's life. 

A stolid and unimaginative mind might have 
endured her position with equal calm; a dull and 
sluggish nature might have been equally indifferent 
to the revolting sights ; but never was an imagination 
more responsive, a nature more vibrant and sensitive 
than hers. It was no lack of life and vigor. She 
was brave and indifferent because the fact of being 
so stirred her imagination. This sort of endurance 
seemed to her worthy of a hero of antiquity. Her 
whole nature was kindled by the thought of being 
superior to circumstances, of thwarting her enemies 
by her courage. 

The training of her whole life helped her to carry 
out this idea. Rousseau never drilled and trained 
Emile more rigidly in the doctrine of submitting to 
necessity than she had herself. The more severe her 
trial, the higher her courage rose. This she felt was 
a supreme test, a martyrdom worthy of a Greek. 
Her classic conception of patriotism was satisfied by 
the thought that she, like the ancients, was in prison 
for the country and would undoubtedly die for it. 

Her imprisonment made her a prominent actor, 
too, in the tragedy. Hitherto she had been behind 
the scenes, an influence recognized, to be sure, by all 
parties, but acting through others. A woman's place 



268 MADAME BOLAXD 

was not in public, she believed, and she conformed 
carefully to her idea. But in serious natures, feeling 
deeply their individual responsibility, there is a de- 
mand for action. So long as Roland was minister 
she had ample chance to satisfy her patriotic long- 
ings for helping. But after his retirement and 
since the Gironde had been so demoralized that 
Buzot could do little or nothing, she had felt bitterly 
her impotence. 

Now all was changed : she was in the fight, not as 
the amanuensis of her husband, the inspirer of her 
friend, but as an independent actor. She must show 
an example of how a patriot should endure and die, 
and she must strike a blow for truth whenever she 
had a chance. What she did and said would not 
only have its influence to-day. it would be quoted 
in the future. This conviction of her obligation to 
help the cause and make herself a figure in history, 
exalted her mind. She took a dramatic pose, and 
she kept it to the end. If there was a shade of the 
theatrical in it. — and there is almost always such 
a shading in Madame Roland's loftiest moods and 
finest acts. — there is so much indifference to self, 
hatred of despotism, contempt of injustice, courage 
before pain, that the lack of perfect naturalness is 
forgotten. 

From the begdnnincr of her imprisonment she lost 
no opportunity to give a lesson in civism to those 
about her. To the guard who brought her to the 
Abbaye, and who remarked on leaving her that if 



IN PRISON 269 



Roland was not guilty it was strange that he ab- 
sented himself, she said that Roland was just, like 
Aristides, and severe, like Cato, and that it was his 
virtues which had made his enemies pursue him. 
"Let them heap their rage on me. I can brave it 
and be resigned; he must be saved for his country, 
for he may yet be able to render great service." 

She neglected no opportunity of obtaining her 
liberty, not so much for the sake of liberty as that 
it gave her a means of expressing her opinions. By 
the advice of Grandpre, an inspector of prisons, 
protected formerly by Roland, and who hurried to 
her aid the first day of her imprisonment, she wrote 
to the Convention. In a haughty tone she described 
her arrest, the fact that no motive for it was. given, 
the indignities and illegalities she had suffered, and 
demanded justice and protection. 

So severe was the letter that Grandpre, after con- 
sulting Champagneux, brought it back to her to 
soften a little. After reflection she consented. "If 
I thought the letter would be read," she told Grand- 
pre*, " I would leave it as it is, even if it resulted 
in failure. One cannot flatter himself that he will 
obtain justice of the Assembly. It does not know 
how to practise to-day the truths addressed to it, but 
they must be said that the departments may hear." 

Grandpre* did his best to have her letter read at 
the Convention, but in the turmoil of the early days 
of June there was nothing to be obtained from this 
body save through fear or force. Madame Roland, 



270 MADAME ROLAND 

hearing that the section in which she lived had taken 
her and Roland under its care, wrote to thank them, 
and to suggest that they try to secure a reading oi 
the letter. But she took care that they should feel 
that she was no tearful suppliant: "I submit this 
question to your judgment; I add no prayer; truth 
has only one language; it is to expose facts; citizens 
who desire justice do not care that supplications 
should be addressed to them, and innocence does not 
know how to make them." 

The letter was read at the section and debated, but 
the Terrorists from other quarters filled the hall, and 
by their menaces prevented any effectual interfer- 
ence by those disposed in Madame Roland's favor. 
Grandpre insisted that she should write to the 
ministers of justice and of the interior. She de- 
spised the weakness and mediocrity of both, and 
declared she would write nothing unless she could 
" give them severe lessons." Grandpre found the 
letters she prepared humiliating, and persuaded her 
to change them. Even after the changes they were 
intensely hostile and contemptuous, anything but 
politic. 

The " lessons " she gave in her letters she never 
failed to put into any conversation she had with 
public officials. One of these conversations she 
relates. It was with a committee of five or six 
persons who had come to look after the condition 
of the prisoners. 

" Good-day, Citoyenne." 



IN PRISON 271 



" Good-day, sir." 

" Are you satisfied with your quarters ? Have you 
any complaints to make of your treatment. Do you 
want anything?" 

"I complain because I am here and I ask to be 
released." 

" Is n't your health good ? Are you a little dull? " 

"I am well and I am never dull. IS ennui is a 
disease of an empty soul and a mind without re- 
sources, but I have a lively sense of injustice. I 
complain because I have been arrested without rea- 
son, and am detained without being examined." 

"Ah, in a time of revolution there is so much to 
do that one cannot accomplish everything." 

" A woman to whom King Philip made about the 
same answer told him, ' If you have not the time to 
do justice you have not time to be king.' Take care 
that you do not force oppressed citizens to say the 
same thing to the people, or rather to the arbitrary 
authorities who are misleading them." 

"Adieu, Citoyenne." 

" Adieu." 

She had soon a more serious task than administer- 
ing gratuitous rebukes and repeating high-sounding 
maxims. It was in defending herself against calum- 
nies and accusations. She did it with spirit and 
clear-headedness, as was to be expected, and fre- 
quently in a tone of contemptuous asperity and 
superiority that could not fail to be exasperating. 

It was on June 12th that she was questioned. She 



272 MADAMS ROLAND 

was asked if she knew anything about the troubles 
of the Republic during and after Roland's ministry, 
or of the plan to make a Federal Republic ; who 
were the persons who came to her salon ; if she knew 
any traitors, or was allied with friends of Dumouriez ; 
what she knew of Roland's Public Opinion Bureau 
and his plan for corrupting the provinces ; and lastly 
where was Roland. The committee got very little 
satisfaction out of their victim. They accused her 
of sharpness and evasion, and probably the accusa- 
tion was just. The interview indicated to Madame 
Roland the complaint of the Commune against her, 
and showed her more clearly than before that there 
was no definite reason for her arrest. She was a 
suspect ; that explained all. 

To vague accusations was added direct calumny. 
Pere Duchesne had not forgotten la reine Roland. 
and one morning she heard cried under her cell win- 
dow: Visit of Pere Duchesne to the citoyenne Ro- 
land in the prison of the Abbaye. The details of the 
pretended visit were cried so that she could hear 
them and at the same time the people collected in 
the market of Saint Germain, held by the side of the 
prison, were exhorted to avenge the wrongs Madame 
Coco had done them. The article was in Hebert's 
most offensive and ribald style and told how its 
author, visiting the prison, was taken by Madame 
Roland for a brigand from La Vendee : how she 
rejoiced with him over the losses of the Republic; 
told him that aid was coming from Coblentz and 



IN PBISON 273 



England, and assured him that the contra-re volution 
had been brought about through Roland. 

At first, hot with indignation at these calumnies, 
she tried to defend herself, but she soon saw that 
to besiege the Revolutionary authorities any longer 
was not only useless, but humiliating. It was better 
suited to her proud courage to ignore them, and she 
found in her silence and disdain a source of inspira- 
tion and strength. 

While natural courage, long schooling in self- 
denial, submission to necessity, superiority to material 
considerations, intense patriotism, a desire to vindi- 
cate herself to posterity, explain her remarkable forti- 
tude in her imprisonment, they do not her triumph. 
The exaltation she found in her prison was that of 
love, a love which duty had thus far forbidden her 
even to think of, but which now she felt she dared 
yield to. Her jailers had become her liberators. 

In the documents which Madame Roland addressed 
from her prison to "posterity" there are frequent 
allusions to her passion for one whose name she con- 
cealed. In the collection of letters she left for 
friends, under the head of " Last Thoughts," is a 
passionate and exultant farewell addressed to one 
whom " I dare not name, to one whom the most terri- 
ble of passions has not kept from respecting the barri- 
ers of virtue." She bids him not to mourn that she 
precedes him to a place where " fatal prejudices, arbi- 
trary conventions, hateful passions, and all kinds of 
tyranny are ended, where one day they can love each 



274 MADAME ROLAND 

other without crime, and where nothing will prevent 
their being united." 

That Buzot was meant, remained a secret of the 
family for seventy years after Madame Roland's 
death. Her biographers frequently speculated as to 
whom the object of her passion was. Lairtullier, writ- 
ing in 1840, quotes her portrait of Barbaroux and 
apostrophizes her thus : " Femme, voila ton secret 
trahi." Servan and Vergniaud have been named as 
possibly her hero. The truth came out in 1864, when 
a bouquiniste of the Quai Voltaire advertised for sale 
a quantity of French Revolution papers among which 
were mentioned five letters of Madame Roland to 
Buzot. He had bought them from a young man 
whose father was an amateur of houquins. Evidently 
they had been wandering among lovers of old papers 
since the day they had been taken from the dead 
body of Buzot. Those letters offered for sale were 
bought by the Bibliotheque Nationale. 

They paint, as no published letters, the exultation 
of love, its power to lift the soul above all ordinary 
influences, free it from accepted laws and convention- 
alities, to strengthen it until it glories in suffering, if 
by that suffering it can yield itself to love. They 
show, too, how noble and pure a conception of such 
a passion Madame Roland had. It must not inter- 
fere with duty. Neither Roland must be betrayed, 
nor the country neglected; if either happened, the 
crown of their passion would be broken. Its glory 
and joy was not in abandon, but in endurance. 



IN PRISON 275 



It was three weeks after she was confined in the 
Abbaye before she heard from Buzot. Her first let- 
ter to him bears the date of June 22d. Buzot was 
at that time at Evreux, exhorting the people to take 
part in a movement of federalism to arouse the de- 
partments to act against the usurpation of Paris. 
She wrote in response to the first letters from him 
which her friends had been able to get to her. 

" How often have I reread them ! I press them to 
my heart ; I cover them with kisses ; I had ceased to 
hope for them ! . . . I came here proud and calm, 
praying and still hoping in the defenders of Liberty. 
When I learned of the decree against the Twenty- 
two, I cried, i My country is lost ! ' I was in the 
most cruel anguish until I was sure of your escape. 
It was renewed by the decree against you; they 
owed that atrocity to your courage. But when I 
found that you were at Calvados, I recovered my 
calm. Continue your generous efforts, my friend. 
Brutus on the fields of Philippi despaired too soon 
of the safety of Rome. So long as a republican 
breathes and is free, let him act. He must, he can, 
be useful. In any case, the South offers you a refuge ; 
it will be an asylum for the country. If dangers 
gather around you, it is there that you must turn 
your eyes and your steps ; it is there that you must 
live, for there you can serve your fellow-men and 
practise virtue. 

" As for me, I know how to wait patiently for the 
return of the reign of justice, or to undergo the last 



276 MADAME BOLAND 

excesses of tyranny in such a way that my example 
shall not be vain. If I fear anything, it is that you 
may make imprudent efforts for me. My friend, it 
is by saving your country that you deliver me. I do 
not want my safety at its expense, but I shall die 
satisfied if I know you are working for your country. 
Death, suffering, sorrow, are nothing to me. I can 
defy all. Why, I shall live to my last hour without 
spending a single moment in unworthy agitation." 

She went over life in the Abbaye, and told him 
what she knew of her family and friends. Of Roland 
she said : 

" The unfortunate Roland has been twenty days in 
two refuges in the houses of trembling friends, con- 
cealed from all eyes, more of a captive than I am 
myself. I have feared for his mind and his health. 
He is now in your neighborhood. Would that were 
true in a moral sense ! I dare not tell you, and 
you alone can understand, that I was not sorry to 
be arrested. ... I owe it to my jailers that I can 
reconcile duty and love. Do not pity me. People 
admire my courage, but they do not understand my 
joys. Thou who must feel them, savest their charm 
by the constancy of thy courage." 

One would believe it a quotation from a letter 
of Julie to Saint-Preux. The 3d of July she sent 
another letter: 

" I received your letter of the 27th. I still hear 
your voice ; I am a witness to your resolutions ; I 
share the sentiments which animate you. I am proud 



IN PRISON 277 



of loving you and of being loved by you. . . . My 
friend, let us not so forget ourselves as to say evil of 
that virtue which is bought by great sacrifice, it is 
true, but which pays in its turn by priceless compen- 
sations. Tell me, do you know sweeter moments 
than those passed in the innocence and the charm of 
an affection that nature recognizes and that delicacy 
regulates ; which honors duty for the privations that 
she imposes upon it and gathers strength in enduring 
them? Do you know a greater advantage than that 
of being superior to adversity and to death ; of find- 
ing in the heart something to enjoy and to sweeten 
life up to the last sigh? Have you ever experienced 
better these effects than in the attachment which 
binds us, in spite of the contradictions of society and 
the horrors of oppression? I have told you that to 
it I owe my joy in my captivity. Proud of being 
persecuted in these times when character and honesty 
are proscribed, I would have supported it with dig- 
nity, even without you, but you make it sweet and 
dear to me. The wretches think to overwhelm me 
by putting irons upon me — senseless ! What does 
it matter to me if I am here or there? Is not my 
heart always with me ? To confine me in a prison — 
is it not to deliver me entirely to it ? My company, 
it is my love ! My occupation, it is to think of it! 
... If I must die, very well. I know what is best in 
life, and its duration would perhaps only force new 
sacrifices upon me. The most glorified instant of my 
existence, that in which I felt most deeply that exal- 



278 MADAME ROLAND 

tation of soul which rejoices in braving all clangers, was 
when I entered the Bastille that my jailers had chosen 
for me. I will not say that I went before them, but 
it is true that I did not flee them. I had not calcu- 
lated on their fury reaching me, but I believed that 
if it did, it would give me an opportunity to serve 
Roland by my testimony, my constancy, and my firm- 
ness. I would be glad to sacrifice my life for him 
in order to win the right to give you my last sigh." 

She sent for his picture, and writes, July 7th : 

" It is on my heart, concealed from all eyes, felt at 
every moment, and often bathed in my tears. Oh, I 
am filled with your courage, honored by your affec- 
tion, and glorying in all that both can inspire in } r our 
proud and sensitive soul. I cannot believe that 
Heaven reserves nothing but trials for sentiments so 
pure and so worthy of its favor. This sort of confi- 
dence makes me endure life and face death calmly. 
Let us enjoy with gratitude the goods given us. He 
who knows how to love as we do, carries within him- 
self the principle of the greatest and best actions, the 
price of the most painful sacrifices, the compensation 
for all evils. Farewell, my beloved, farewell." 

On July 7th, she wrote Buzot the last letter, so far 
as we know, that he received from her. In it all the 
exultation of her ardent passion, all the force of her 
noble courage, are concentrated. 

" My friend, you cannot picture the charm of a 
prison where one need account only to his own heart 
for the employment of his moments ! No annoying 



IN PRISON 279 



distraction, no painful sacrifice, no tiresome cares; 
none of those duties so much the more binding on an 
honest heart because they are respectable ; none of 
those contradictions of law, or of the prejudices of 
societj^, with the sweetest inspirations of nature ; no 
jealous look spies on what one feels, or the occupation 
which one chooses; no one suffers from your inaction 
or your melancholy; no one expects efforts or de- 
mands sentiments which are not in your power ; left 
to yourself and to truth, with no obstacles to over- 
come, no friction to endure, one can, without harm to 
the rights and to the affection of another, abandon 
his soul to its own righteousness, refind his moral 
independence in an apparent captivity, and exercise 
it with a completeness that social relations almost 
always change. I had not looked for this indepen- 
dence. . . . Circumstances have given me that which 
I could never have had without a kind of crime. How 
I love the chains which give me freedom to love you 
undividedly, to think of you ceaselessly ! Here all 
other occupation is laid aside. I belong only to him 
who loves me and merits so well to be loved by me. . . . 
I do not want to penetrate the designs of Heaven, I 
will not allow myself to make guilty prayers, but I 
bless God for having substituted my present chains 
for those I wore before. And this change appears to 
me the beginning of favor. If He grants me more, 
may He leave me here until my deliverance from a 
world given over to injustice and unhappiness ! " 
"Do not pity me," she wrote to Buzot in her letter 



280 MADAME ROLAND 

of June 22. She was not to be pitied. Life and 
death were kinder to her than to most of those upon 
whom fall the supreme misfortune of loving where 
conventionalities and law forbid love to go. It took 
the struggle from her hand and prevented the disil- 
lusion which she must have undergone had she lived. 
There is no escaping the conclusion that she would 
have ultimately left Roland for Buzot. Her idealiza- 
tion of all relations, persons, and ideas which stirred 
her ; her imagination from infancy, given full play ; 
her passionate nature, which she knew but poorly, 
though nattering herself that she was entirely its 
mistress ; her confidence in the superiority of senti- 
ment and in herself, — would have unquestionably 
pushed her to a union of some sort with Buzot. 
She was happy to be guillotined when she was, other- 
wise she must have inevitably suffered the most ter- 
rible and humiliating of all the disillusions of a 
woman, — the loss of faith in herself, in the infalli- 
bility of her sentiments, in her incapability to do 
wrong. 

There is a much more natural and simple side to 
Madame Roland's five months in prison than this one 
of exaltation and endurance, which, when viewed 
apart, sometimes becomes a little fatiguing. If one 
regards only the heroine, her self-sufficiency is a bit 
irritating at moments, much as one must admire it. 
It is the arrangement of her life, her occupations, her 
amusements, which appeal most to ordinary minds, 
and which perhaps are a better index to her real 



IN PBISON 281 



force of character than her exalted periods and pro- 
fessions. 

When first taken to the Abbaye she was obliged to 
be alone in her cell, to take a tiny room with dirty 
walls and a heavily grated window. It opened on 
a disagreeable street, and below she could hear by 
night the cries of the sentry ; by day, the hawking 
of Pere Duchesne's journal, and the rudeness of the 
market people, cries sometimes directed against her- 
self. Nevertheless she decorated the little cell so 
gayly with flowers and books that her jailers called 
it Flora's Pavilion. 

At the Abbaye about fifty cents a day were al- 
lowed each prisoner for his expenses, although he 
could spend more if he had it. Madame Roland de- 
cided to amuse herself by making an experiment, — 
to see to what she could reduce her fare. Bread and 
water was served her for her dejeuner; for dinner 
(one hundred years ago the French dined at noon) 
she ate only one kind of meat, with a salad ; in the 
evening, a little vegetable, but no dessert. After a 
time she got on without wine or beer. " This 
regime," she explained, "had a moral end, and as 
I should have had as much aversion as contempt 
for a useless economy, I commenced by giving a 
sum to the poor, in order to have the pleasure, when 
eating my dry bread in the morning, of thinking 
that the poor souls would owe it to me that they 
could add something to their dinners." 

When she went to Sainte Pelagie, she found her 



282 MADAME BOLANB 

life a little different. There the State gave nothing in 
money for the prisoners, who even paid for their beds. 
All that was furnished them was a pound and a half 
of bread and a dish of beans each day. She made 
arrangements with the concierge of the prison to 
furnish her meals which were about as simple as 
at the Abbaye. The prison itself she found most 
disagreeable. In fact, Sainte Pelagie, which exists 
to-day, though condemned to destruction, is the 
most gloomy and forbidding building in Paris. Its 
mere presence in the quarter where it stands gives 
a dreary and hopeless air to the street. The in- 
mates of the prison at the period when Madame 
Roland was confined there were of such a character 
that she was subjected to the most disgusting annoy- 
ances. In the corridor from which her cell opened, 
their rooms separated from one and another only 
by thin partitions, were numbers of abandoned and 
criminal women. So obscene and revolting were 
they that she rarely left her room, though she 
could not shut out their noise. 

From this pandemonium the concierge succeeded 
in saving her for a time, giving her a large chamber 
near her own, where she even had a piano ; but the 
inspectors, once aware of the favor, ordered her back 
into the noisy corridor. Even there, however, she 
had her pleasures, — her flowers and her books. The 
first Bosc supplied her; the second she bought, or 
begged from her friends. She had Thompson, 
Shaftesbury, an English dictionary, Tacitus, and 



IN PRISON 283 



Plutarch. She bought pencils and drew a little 
every day; altogether it was a busy life. Her day 
was arranged regularly. In the morning she studied 
English, the essay of Shaftesbury on virtue, and 
Thompson ; after that she drew until noon. Then 
she had serious work, for, conscious that her im- 
prisonment might end in her death, she resolved 
at its outset to set down as fully as she should have 
time to, the facts in the political life of Roland, and 
to explain her own relations to him. It is from the 
material that she was able to write in this five 
months and get to her friends, that most of what 
we know of her life comes. 

The first undertaken was her Historical Notes, 
written at the Abbaye. These she did, so rapidly, 
she says, and with such pleasure, that in less than a 
month she had manuscript for a volume. It was 
a summary of her public life, and an estimate on the 
people she had known during it. She had, herself, 
a very good opinion of the production : " I wrote 
it with my natural freedom and energy, with frank 
abandon and with the ease of one who is free from 
all private considerations, with pleasure in painting 
what I had felt and seen, and, finally, with the con- 
fidence that in any case it would be my moral and 
political testament. It had the originality which cir- 
cumstances lent it, and the merit of reflections born 
from passing events, and the freshness which belongs 
to such an origin." 

The manuscript was confided to Champagneux, 



284 MADAME ROLAND 

who was still in the Department of the Interior, but 
he, arrested, confided it to a person who, frightened 
lest it should fall into the hands of the inspectors, 
threw it into the fire. " I should have preferred 
to have been thrown there myself," said Madame 
Roland, when she heard of this disaster. 

Not all of the Historical Notes were destroyed, 
however, the account of her own and her hus- 
band's arrest, of her first days at the Abbaye, and 
a brief sketch of their official life being saved. 

It was more than a month after she was impris- 
oned at Sainte Pelagie before she determined to do 
over the task. The new undertaking included a 
series of portraits and anecdotes drawn from her 
political life, an account of her second arrest, and 
of the first and second ministries. At the same 
time that she wrote this, she prepared her private 
Memoirs, — a detailed history of her life up to 
1777, — and notes on the time between her marriage 
and the Revolution. She intended to add to her 
Memoirs the story of her relations with Buzot, 
giving the origin and progress of her passion, but 
she was never able to finish it. 

To this literary budget, already large, she after- 
wards added several short manuscripts, — a set of 
"Last Thoughts," a number of letters, and a com- 
ment on the accusation made by the Mountain 
against the Gironde, that it was guilty of a con- 
spiracy against the unity and the indivisibility of 
the Republic, and the liberty and safety of the French 
people. 



IN PRISON 285 



Almost all of this matter was given to Bosc, who, 
thanks to the concierge of Sainte PeTagie, was 
allowed to see her twice a week, up to the middle 
of October. But Bosc was proscribed later, and 
obliged to flee. Unwilling to trust the treasures 
he held to another, he hid the manuscripts in the 
crevice of a rock in the depths of the forest of 
Montmorency, where they remained eight months. 
Later, these papers were given to Eudora. They 
remained in the family until given to the Biblio- 
theque Nationale, where they now are. 

The difficulties under which she wrote were, of 
course, great. It was essential that she should elude 
her guardians. She had no notes. She was sur- 
rounded by a ribald and noisy company. But these 
disadvantages only acted as spurs. She took delight 
in canying on this forbidden work under the eyes 
of her persecutors. So rapidly did she write that in 
twenty-four days she produced two hundred pages 
of manuscript, including all the early part of her 
Memoirs. The words seemed to flow from her pen. 
The bulky manuscript of seven hundred pages, pre- 
served at the Bibliotheque Nationale, is a marvel of 
neatness and firmness. The grayish pages are filled 
evenly from margin to margin in her beautiful char- 
acteristic hand, and there is scarcely a blot or eras- 
ure, scarcely a correction, save those made by Bosc, 
who published the first edition of the Memoirs in 
1795. 

In style, the political writings are always clear 



286 MADAME ROLAND 

and positive ; often they rise to a real eloquence. 
Written as they were under the force of the most 
powerful emotions, unbiassed judgments cannot be 
expected. She was defending her husband primarily 
in this work, and she did it with the more earnest- 
ness and warmth because she felt, as she wrote 
Buzot, that this was one way of compensating him 
for the sorrow she had caused him. • 

Her judgments on men are not always just. In- 
deed, they cannot be called judgments, they are 
simply her feelings towards those persons at the 
moment she wrote. Her indignation against the 
wrongs done her and her party is so intense that 
often her tone is irritated, contemptuous, impatient. 
The arrangement is not systematic, as, indeed, it was 
impossible to be, under the circumstances, and her 
pen bounds from one character to another, — from 
hero to agitator, from apostrophe to anecdote, — in 
a sort of reckless, impassioned hurry. The whole 
gallery of the Gironde and its opponents, from 1791 
to 1793 pass before us, every one stamped with a 
positive, definite character. 

That she poses throughout the narrative is un- 
questionable. It is to posterity she speaks, and she 
wished to appear in the eyes of the future as she 
believed herself to be, — the apostle of the ideas of 
liberty, equality, and fraternity, the incarnation of 
patriotism, the most perfect disinterestedness, and 
the highest fortitude. 

It was Madame Roland's plan, in writing her per- 



IN PRISON 287 



sonal Memoirs, to cover her whole life, and to follow 
Jean Jacques Rousseau's Confessions. Although the 
work was never completed, we have the first twenty- 
five years. The charm of the narrative is irresisti- 
ble. Never, even in the gayest and most natural of 
her letters to Bosc and Roland, was Madame Roland's 
pen so happy as in these Memoirs of her youth. 
They sparkle with mirth and with tenderness. Never 
did any one appreciate better his own youth, nor 
idealize it more lovingly. To her these souvenirs 
are radiant pictures, and she sketches them one 
after another, with a full appreciation of all their 
attractiveness. 

. Her early masters, her suitors, her youthful enthu- 
siasm, Sophie, the Convent des Dames de la Con- 
gregation, Meudon, Vincennes, La Blancherie, her 
mother, the Salon, river, Luxembourg, her toilettes, 
duties, sorrows, joys, the whole flows in a steady, 
sparkling stream, vivid with color, pulsating with 
life. She relives it all, and without reflection or 
hesitation pours out everything which comes into 
her mind. So full and natural are these Memoirs 
that they are really the most attractive material we 
have of the life of her class in the eighteenth century. 

In all Madame Roland's dramatic life there is no 
more attractive picture than that which the writing 
of her Memoirs brings up : this splendid, passionate 
woman, glorying in her love and her courage, sitting 
day after day before the little table in her prison cell, 
oblivious to the cries and oaths which rise about her, 



288 MADAME BOLAND 



indifferent to discomfort, forgetful of everything but 
the souvenirs which her flying pen records, and which 
bring smiles and tears by turn to her mobile face. 
Here we have none of the stilted, prepared style of 
her early writings, none of the pose of the political 
memoirs. It is self-complacent, to be sure, and we 
feel that she is making herself out to have been a 
most extraordinary young girl, but one cannot help 
forgiving her, she makes herself out so charming. 
However, if one is interested in finding out the 
woman as she really was, he must not trust too fully 
to her interpretations. She was so interested in her- 
self, idealized herself so thoroughly, was so serious 
in her self-confidence, so devoid of self-reproach, that 
she was oblivious to her own inconsistencies and 
inconsequentialities. 

Rousseau's Confessions were the model of her 
Memoirs. The result was that she related some 
experiences which good sense and taste, not to say 
delicacy, ought to have forbidden her to repeat to 
any one, above all, to the public. These passages 
in her Memoirs are due to her slavish following of 
Rousseau. She was incapable of exercising an inde- 
pendent judgment in a matter of taste, of opinion, 
of morals, where Rousseau was concerned, so com- 
pletely had she adopted him. When she came to 
writing her life, she dragged to light unimportant 
and unpleasant details because Rousseau had had the 
bad taste to do the same before her. The naivete*, 
with which these things are told, will convince any 




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IN PRISON 289 



one that cares to examine the Memoirs that they 
mean nothing but she had taken the foolish engage- 
ment to tell everything she could remember about 
her life. 

The Memoirs, as well as her daily life, her letters, 
her attitude towards the authorities, show her cour- 
age. But they show, too, the anguish which shook 
her from time to time. More than once her firm, 
brilliant narrative is broken suddenly — the sen- 
tence unfinished — to record some new outrage 
against her friends, and as she expresses indig- 
nantly her horror and her grief at the usurpers who 
are ruling France, one can almost hear the sob which 
shook her, but to which she would not yield. Here 
and there the gray pages of her beautiful manu- 
script are spotted by tear stains. Even now, a hun- 
dred years and more after it all, one cannot read 
them and see how, in spite of her iron will, her splen- 
did courage, her heart was sometimes so heavy with 
woe that her tears would fall, without a choking in 
the throat and a dimness of the eyes. 

One crisis after another indeed followed through- 
out her imprisonment, — the arrest of the Twenty- 
two ; her own release and rearrest ; the pursuit of 
Buzot ; her friends and Roland's declared suspect, im- 
prisoned, driven from Paris, sometimes even guillo- 
tined because of their relations to her ; the trial in 
October of the members of the Gironde; her summons 
to the trial as a witness, but the failure to call her, — 
a call which she had awaited, " as a soul in pain awaits 



290 MADAME BOLAND 

its liberator," she said, so did she desire to have 
the chance to render one last service to these friends, 
in whom she believed so strongly, whom she deemed 
so trusty; her anxiety for Eudora; the execution in 
October of the Twenty-one ; above all, her despair 
for her country, for France, which permits the dis- 
honor and murder not of " her children, but of the 
fathers of her liberty." 

The saddest phase of this dark side of her impris- 
onment was the growing conviction that she and the 
patriots had been wrong. At last she saw what she 
did when in 1791 she spurned the Assembly. She 
acknowledged now that she would have disdained 
the members of the National Assembly less, if she 
could have had an idea of their successors. She had 
learned to regret Mirabeau, whose death then had 
seemed to her well both for his glory and for the 
cause of liberty. " The counterpoise of a man of that 
force was necessary to oppose the crowd of puppets 
and to preserve us from the domination of the 
bandits." She had learned that men may profess, 
but when their interests and ideals are in opposition 
it is the former which wins. She had discovered, at 
last, that to demand speedy and immediate regenera- 
tion of society is to break the laws of the universe ; 
that to take away from men what the ages have given 
them is simply to restore them to the primitive state 
of teeth and claws, to let loose the passions the 
centuries have tamed. She saw that in politics, 
in society, in individual relations, the ideal is the 



IN PRISON 291 



inspiration ; the realization, the laborious effort of 
centuries. She acknowledged that in Plutarch she 
glided over the storms of the Republic, "forgot the 
death of Socrates, the exile of Aristides, the condem- 
nation of Phocion." She was willing at last to say 
with Sully, " C'est tres difficile de faire le bien de son 
pays " ; to confess that " if it is permitted to politics 
to do good through the wicked, or to profit by their 
excesses, it is infinitely dangerous to give them the 
honor of the one, or not to punish them for the 
other." 

Under the pressure of all these woes she sometimes 
felt her resolution weaken. What wonder that when 
she heard, in October, that Buzot and his friends, 
now escaped to the Gascogne, were being tracked so 
closely that their arrest was sure, she determined 
to kill herself? "You know the malady the English 
call heart-break" she wrote ; " I am attacked hope- 
lessly by it and I have no desire to delay its effects." 
It seemed to her now that it was weak to await the 
blow of her tyrants — their coup de grdce she called it 
— when she could give it to herself. Why should 
she allow them to see how bravely she could die — 
they who were incapable of understanding her cour- 
age ? Three months ago a noble public death might 
have served for something. To-day it was pure loss. 
All this she wrote to Bosc. She consented, however, 
to accept his decision as to whether she ought or not 
to take her own life, charging him to weigh the ques- 
tion as if it were impersonal. 



292 MADAME BOLAND 

This letter to Bosc bears the date of October 25th. 
On October 31st, the condemned Girondins were be- 
headed. On November 1st, Madame Roland, who 
because of Bosc's arguments had abandoned her reso- 
lution to suicide, was conveyed to the Conciergerie, 
a prison which in those days was but a transfer to 
the cart which led to the guillotine. 

But could she not have been saved? She had 
friends who would have gladly dared death for her. 
All Paris knew of her imprisonment — was there no 
lover of justice to intercede ? Her friends had tried 
to save her. Buzot and Roland both contrived many 
plans ; she repulsed them all. They were too fool- 
hardy to succeed ; they might implicate those who 
would interest themselves in carrying them out, or 
perhaps ruin guardians who had been kind to her — 
of these she would hear nothing. Her old friend, 
Henriette Cannet, then a widow, came from Amiens, 
succeeded in reaching her in prison, insisted on chang- 
ing garments with her and on remaining in her place. 
She would not consent ; she would rather " suffer a 
thousand deaths " than run the risk of causing that 
of a friend. And then what did release mean? 
Merely the taking on of her old chains. " Nothing 
would stop me if I braved dangers only to rejoin 
you," she wrote Buzot; "but to expose my friends 
and to leave the irons with which the wicked honor 
me, in order to take on others that no one sees — 
there is no hurry for that." 

Madame Roland, throughout her imprisonment, had 



IN prison 293 



hoped for a popular uprising, a revolt against tyranny, 
coming from Paris or the departments, which would 
release her and her friends. She never got thor- 
oughly over her illusion that the people, as a mass, 
were the ones that were to reconstruct France; never 
realized fully how the people are simply a passive 
unit, asking only to be let alone, to be allowed to live 
as they can without interference ; that they have no 
initiative, that when they act it is because they have 
been aroused by leaders working on them systemat- 
ically, appealing to their wants, their desires, their 
reason sometimes, but more often inflaming their pas- 
sions. She never appreciated, save dimly, the fact 
that throughout the Revolution, so far, the revolt of 
the people had been prepared by agitators, — prepared 
as she and her friends wished to make the 20th of 
July, did make the 10th of August. The people know 
she is imprisoned; if they reflect at all, they know that 
probably it is unjust, but they are cautious. The}*- 
have seen, ever since the Revolution commenced, that 
he who tries to prevent outrage is sure to be the first 
to be punished. They have concluded wisely that 
the only safe plan is to let the belligerents fight it 
out, to follow as well as they can their usual occupa- 
tions, and to say nothing. The mass of the Pari- 
sians go on as usual. The Terror has become a part 
of daily discussion, a part of the city's spectacles, — 
that is all. People buy and sell as usual, the the- 
atres do not close, not even the Sunday promenade 
is omitted. They even take advantage of events to 



294 MADAME ROLAND 

give a livelier interest to their amusements. The the- 
atres, the fairs, the cafes chantants, the maker of songs 
and engravings, draw their subjects from the quarrels 
of the Assembly, the persecutions of the Commune, 
the events of the prisons and of the guillotine. They 
even use it to advertise their wares : The real estate 
agents announce, " in the new state of Kentucky, and 
the ancient state of Virginia, lands in a country free 
from despotism and anarchy." The potter improves 
the chance, and turns out plates and cups and saucers 
by the thousands, suitable for all the varying tastes 
and shades of opinion ; there is elegant Sevres with a 
bonnet rouge for the rich patriot ; there is a vive le roi, 
with a sceptre, for the monarchist; there is a guil- 
lotine for the bloodthirsty; there is a coarse and 
vulgar joke for the ribald. The cloth-maker prints 
patriotic scenes on his curtain stuff; the handker- 
chief-maker decorates with transcriptions of the 
droits des hommes ; the hat-maker turns out ideal- 
ized bonnets rouges suitable for the street or opera; 
the fan-maker illuminates with king or sans-culottes, 
according to taste; the very manufacturer of play- 
ing-cards takes off the time-honored king and queen 
and knave, and replaces them with heroes, philoso- 
phers, and Revolutionary emblems. Cabinet-maker, 
jeweller, shoemaker, weaver, all turn the Revolution 
to account. For whether justice reign or fall, the 
world must go on, and while the few wrestle with 
the pains of progress, of achievement, of aspiration, 
the mass looks on and calculates what effect the 
struggle will have on the price of bread. 



XIII 

DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE 

r I ^HE inmates of the Conciergerie were still shiver- 
-^ ing under the horror of the death of the twenty- 
one Girondins when Madame Roland appeared among 
them. Her coming was an event which awakened 
the liveliest interest. For eight months she had 
been the most influential woman in France. She 
was the recognized inspiration of the party which 
had wrecked the monarchy and established the Re- 
public, which had been conquered by the force it had 
called to life. To the majority she was but a name. 
They all knew that her death was a foregone con- 
clusion. They felt that she, too, knew it, and they 
watched, many of them with curiosity — for numbers 
of the inmates were of constitutional and royalist 
sympathies — for signs of revolt and of weakness. 
Never, however, had she been calmer, never more 
serene. 

The prisons of Paris were at that time terribly over- 
crowded and poorly cared for. It was the custom to 
confine people together without any regard to their 
character or lives. " On the same straw, and behind 

295 



296 MADAME ROLAND 

the same bars," writes an inmate, "the Duchesse de 
Grammont and a handkerchief thief, Madame Roland 
and a wretch of the streets, a sister and a habitue of 
Saipe"tridre. The quarrelling and the obscenity were 
often terrible. But from the time of her arrival the 
chamber of Madame Roland became an asylum of 
peace in the bosom of this hell. If she descended 
into the court, her simple presence restored good 
order, and the unhappy women, on whom no known 
power had longer any influence, were restrained by 
the fear of displeasing her. She gave money to the 
most needy, and to all counsel, consolation, and hope." 

Over many of the prisoners she exercised a kind of 
spell. "I experienced every day a new charm in 
listening to her," says Comte Beugnot, a fellow-pris- 
oner who, rare thing, escaped to write his memoirs ; 
" less from what she said than from the magic of her 
manner." " We were* all attentive about her in a 
kind of stupefied admiration," declares RiofTe. 

The next day after her arrival she was questioned 
for the first time ; two days later she underwent a 
second examination. She had gone into the tribunal 
in her usual serene way. She came back deeply 
moved, her eyes wet. The interrogation was indeed 
most trying. The questions were so couched that 
in answering them honestly she condemned herself. 
Did she not entertain Brissot, Barbaroux, Buzot, 
Pe*tion, in conference? She must admit it, and ex- 
plain the " conference " as she would, the Revolution- 
ary tribunal used her admission as a confession of a 



DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE 297 

criminal relation. A letter written to a person, whom 
she knew but slightly, and who had tried to secure a 
reading of her letters to the Convention, was used 
as evidence against her. It was useless to declare 
that she simply tried through this correspondent to 
reach the ear of the authorities and to obtain news 
of her friends. Her friends have been guillotined as 
traitors to the country, or are in open rebellion at 
this moment, conspiring for the destruction of the Re- 
public. This person, if he were a patriot, would not 
have been in communication with them. If she were 
loyal, she would not want news of them. Let her try 
to explain and they accuse her of evasion. Roland's 
office for creating public opinion was brought up. 
Was she not the directress of this pretended Bureau 
of Public Opinion, whose end was evidently to attack 
the doctrines in their purest source and to bring about 
the destruction of the Republic by sowing disorder ? 
It was useless to explain the tame and harmless 
nature of this department of Roland's work — a de- 
partment established by public decree; for they 
accused her of outraging truth when she did, and 
told her that everybody knew that the correspon- 
dence carried on by the perfidious minister had for its 
principal object to bring the departments to Paris 
and to spread calumnies against the faithful repre- 
sentatives of the people. They asked her the where- 
abouts of Roland, and when she refused to tell they 
informed her that she was in rebellion against the 
law. 



298 MADAME BOLAND 

It was evident, indeed, that whatever she might 
say was useless. She was the friend of the Gironde, 
and the last of the race must be exterminated just as 
royalist and emigre had been. The world was being 
made over, and all who objected to the transformation 
and wished to fight for another order must be put 
out of the way. There was not room enough in 
France any longer for people of different ways of 
looking at things. 

The night after her second interrogation, Madame 
Roland wrote a defence to read before the tribunal, in 
which she indignantly denied the accusations against 
her friends, and declared herself honored to perish 
for her fidelity to them. The defence was in her 
haughtiest, most uncompromising style, and showed 
her at the very end as resolute, as proud, as trium- 
phant, as ever. But this defence was written in the 
heat of indignation at her examination, and for the 
hearing of the judges she despised. Away from her 
persecutors, many times during the daj^s which fol- 
lowed, her strength failed and her fellow-prisoners 
remarked, almost with awe, that she had been weep- 
ing. The woman who served her told them : " Be- 
fore you she collects all her strength, but in her 
chamber she remains often hours at a time, leaning 
against the window, weeping." 

On the 7th. of November, the witnesses against 
Madame Roland appeared. There were three of 
them ; — her faithful bonne, for thirteen years in her 
service, and who during her imprisonment had 



DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE 299 

dared every danger to be useful to her, a governess 
of Eudora's, and a domestic. The weight of their 
testimony was simply that the Girondins had fre- 
quented the house. 

That night Madame Roland's lawyer, a courageous 
young man, Chauveau-Lagarde by name, who was 
ambitious to defend her, came to consult with her. 
She listened calmly to him and discussed several 
points of her defence. When he rose to go she drew 
a ring from her finger and, without a word, gave 
it to him. The young man divined the farewell. 
" Madame," he cried, " we shall see each other to- 
morrow after the sentence." 

" To-morrow I shall not be alive. I know the fate 
which awaits me. Your counsels are dear to me, 
but they might be fatal to you. They would ruin 
you without saving me. Let me never know the 
sorrow of causing the death of a good man. Do not 
come to the court, I shall disown you, but accept the 
only token my gratitude can offer. To-morrow I 
shall exist no more." 

The next day, November 8th, was her trial. When 
she came out from her cell to await for her summons 
to the court, Comte Beugnot joined her. " She was 
clad carefully in white muslin, trimmed with blonde 
and fastened by a girdle of black velvet." He says : 
" Her face seemed to me more animated than usual. 
Its color was exquisite and she had a smile on her lips. 
With one hand she held up the train of her gown ; 
the other she had abandoned to a crowd of prisoners 



300 MADAME ROLAND 

who pressed near to kiss it. Those who understood 
the fate which awaited her sobbed about her and 
commended her to God. . . . Madame responded to 
all with affectionate kindness. She did not promise 
to return, she did not say she was going to her death, 
but her last words to them were touching counsels. 
She begged them to have peace, courage, hope, to 
practise those virtues which are fitting for misfortune. 
An old jailer, called Fontenay, whose good heart had 
resisted the practice of his cruel trade for thirty 
years, came to open the gate for her, weeping. I did 
my errand with her in the passage. She answered 
me in a few words and in a firm tone. She had 
commenced a sentence when two jailers from the 
interior called her to the tribunal. At this cry, 
terrible for another than her, she stopped and, press- 
ing my hand, said : ' Good-by, sir, let us make peace, 
it is time.' Raising her eyes, she saw that I was 
struggling violently to keep back my tears. She 
seemed moved and added but two words, 4 Have 
courage.' " 

The accusation waited her. It was a charge of 
having " wickedly and designedly participated in a 
conspiracy against the unity and indivisibility of the 
Republic, against the liberty and surety of the French 
people, by collecting at her home the principal leaders 
of this conspiracy, and carrying on a correspondence 
with them tending to facilitate their murderous proj- 
ects." She was not allowed to read her defence, and 
the judgment was pronounced at once. She was con- 



DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE 301 

victed of being one of the authors, or accomplices, in 
a " horrible conspiracy against the unity and indivisi- 
bility of the Republic, the liberty and surety of the 
French people," and was sentenced to be punished by 
death. 

When she came out from the tribunal the cart 
awaited her in the prison court. 

Standing on the Pont au Change and looking 
down the Seine, is one of those fascinating river 
views of Paris where a wealth of associations disputes 
with endless charm the attention of the loiterer. The 
left of the view is filled by the Norman Towers of 
the Conciergerie, the fagades of the prison, the irreg- 
ular fronts of the houses facing on the Quai de 
l'Horloge, and ends in an old house of Henry IV.'s 
time. It is the house where Manon Phlipon passed 
her girlhood. When the cart drove across the Pont 
au Change, Madame Roland had before her the 
window from which, as a girl, she had leaned at 
sunset, and "with a heart rilled with inexpressible 
joy, happy to exist, had offered to the Supreme Being 
a pure and worthy homage." 

She faces death now as she faced life then. The 
girl and the woman, in spite of the drama between, 
are unchanged: the same ideals, the same courage, 
the same faith. Not even this tragic last encounter 
with the home of her youth moves her calm ; for she 
passed the Pont Neuf, writes one who saw her, 
"upright and calm, — her eyes shining, her color 



302 MADAME BOLANB 

fresh and brilliant, — a smile on her lips, trying to 
cheer her companion, a man overwhelmed by the 
terror of approaching death." 

It was a long and weary jolt in the rough cart 
from the Pont Neuf, where M. Tissot saw her 
passing, " erect and calm," by the Rue Saint Honore 
to the Place de la Concorde, then Place de la Guil- 
lotine. The hideous, howling crowd followed and 
cursed her. But nothing earthly could reach the 
heights whither she had risen. At the foot of the 
guillotine, so tradition goes, she asked for a pen to 
write the thoughts which had arisen in this awful 
journey to death, but it was refused. Sanson, the 
headsman, in a hurry, pressed her to mount the short 
ladder which led to the platform; for there was a 
grim guillotine etiquette which gave her the right to 
die first, but she asked him to give her place to her 
cringing companion and spare him the misery of see- 
ing her die. Sanson demurred. It was against his 
orders. " Can you refuse a lady her last request?" 
she said, smiling, and he, a little shamefaced, con- 
sented. 

Then her turn came. As they fastened her to the 
fatal plank, her eyes fell on a colossal statue of lib- 
erty erected to celebrate the first anniversary of the 
10th of August. " O liberte," she cried, " comme on 
t'a jouee." Then the axe dropped, the beautiful 
head fell : Madame Roland was dead. 



XIV 



THOSE LEFT BEHESTD 



IV/rADAME ROLAND was dead, but she had left 
behind the three beings dearest and closest to 
her, — her husband, her child, and her lover. 

Roland fled from Paris, as we have seen, on the 
night of May 31st. He succeeded in reaching 
Amiens, where he had lived many years and where 
he had many friends ; but though more than one 
home was opened to him the surveillance of the 
Mountain was such that he thought it wise to leave 
the town. From Amiens he went westward to 
Rouen, where he easily found shelter. He was here 
on June 22d, when Madame Roland wrote her first 
letter to Buzot. The life he led there was miserable 
in the extreme. He constantly feared to be arrested ; 
he felt that he was jeopardizing the lives of his hosts 
by his presence ; he fretted under the contempt and 
false accusations which the Mountain continued to 
rain upon him ; and, above all, he was tortured by 
his inability to do anything to insure the future of 
his child or to effect the release of his wife. 

This anxiety had not grown less with time. The 
303 



304 MADAME BOLAND 

events of the summer and the fall of 1793 only 
increased day by day his misery and apprehension. 
The news of the death of the twenty-one Girondins 
in October seemed to turn to bitterness the last drop 
of his hope. A heavier blow awaited him. That 
happened which must have seemed to his simple soul 
the impossible, — his wife was guillotined. When 
the fatal word reached him, she had been dead for 
several days. As the news was given him he fell, 
stricken with a blessed unconsciousness. When he 
recovered himself, his distress was so great that he 
resolved to put an end to his days. In vain did the 
friends who had sheltered and cared for him all these 
months urge him to give up his resolution. He 
would not listen to them, but with perfect serenity 
laid before them two plans which he felt he might 
follow. The first savored strongly of Madame Ro- 
land's influence: it was to go incognito to Paris, 
appear in the Convention, make an unexpected 
speech in which he should tell them the truths he 
felt they ought to hear, and then ask them to kill 
him on the guillotine where his wife had lost her life. 
The second was to kill himself. 

One consideration alone deterred him from carry- 
ing out his first plan. The property of persons 
guillotined was confiscated by the State. If he 
should die in this manner, Eudora would be left 
penniless, and Roland abandoned the idea. There 
remained nothing for him but suicide. On the even- 
ing of November 15th, he bade his friends good-by, 







ROLAND DE LA PLATIERE. 
From a drawing" by Gabriel. 



THOSE LEFT BEHIND 305 

and left Rouen by the route to Paris. About four 
leagues from Rouen, in the hamlet of Baudoin, he left 
the highway, entered the roadway leading to a pri- 
vate house, seated himself on the ground on the edge 
of the avenue, and deliberately ran a cane-sword into 
his breast. His death must have been immediate ; for 
passers-by, next morning, seeing him there leaning 
against a tree, thought he was sleeping. When the 
truth was discovered, a deputy from the Convention, 
who happened to be at Rouen, went at once to the 
spot and took possession of the papers on his person. 
The only one of importance was a note which ran : 

" Whoever finds me lying here, let him respect my 
remains. They are those of a man who died as he 
lived, virtuous and honest. 

" The day is not far distant when you will have to 
bear a terrible judgment; await that day; you will 
act then in full knowledge of causes, and you will 
understand the meaning of this advice. 

u May my country soon abhor these crimes and 
return to humanity and kindliness." 

On another fold of the paper was written : 

" Not fear, but Indignation. 

" I left my refuge as soon as I heard that my wife 
had been murdered. I desire to remain no longer in 
a world covered with crime." 

Eudora Roland, born October 7, 1781, was twelve 
years old at the time of her mother's death. Sepa- 



MADAME BOLASD 

rated the night :: the urest, the twe nevei aw each 
other again. Happily, there were win md faithful 
friend ready :: take sare :: ha is soon u her 
serious situation was known. Boss, ~ho through- 
:•;.: Madame Roland's im pris :^zit^: showed himself 
of the most fearless : :: 1 Tender devotion, went to the 
apartmen: in the Kue de la Harpe soon after the 
arrest, and took the little giri :: rhe home of a mem- 
ber :: the '. ::\~iz.~:z.. CiTV.iT-l.vTouehe. Here she 
remained until a few days before her mother's death, 
Tnen it became evident that, in sheltering Eudora, 
Madame Creuze-la-Touche was compromising the 
ss i-zj of her family, and she was compelled to place 
hex shaige in a pension. She was not received there, 
even, until her name had been changed. All this 
was i _ 1 7 : : grief to 11 1 :_: Roland in her 1 
She understood only :: : weD now thai hei :nild was 
in danger :: suffering her own fate. She ~:::e an 
anxious letter to ; * the person charged with the sare 
of my daughter," ind fce Zudora herself she wrote 
a courageous adieu: 

•1 1 ; not know, my little girl/* she wi : - 
shall ever see or write to you again. Rzmembep. 
yote mothee, that is the best thing I can say to 
you. You have seen me happy in doing my duty 
and in serving those whe were suffering. Eheieis 
no better life. 

Yon have :::: me tranquil in misfortunT 
captivity 1 xrald be si because I had no - 
and onlv pleasant memories of the g:ood I had done. 



THOSE LEFT BEHIND 307 

Nothing else can sustain one in the sorrows of life. 
Perhaps you will never experience trials like mine, 
but you must prepare for others. A busy, active life 
is the best safeguard against danger, and necessity, as 
well as wisdom, will compel you to work seriously. 

"Be worthy of your parents. They leave you a 
noble example. If you follow them, you will not 
live in vain. 

" Farewell, dear child. I nursed you at my breast. 
I would inspire you with my aspirations. The day 
will come when you will understand the effort I 
am making to be strong as I think of your sweet 
face. 

" Would that I could fold you to my breast ! 

" Adieu, my Eudora." 

It was Madame Roland's last letter to her child. 
Bosc, who had been allowed to visit her twice a 
week throughout the fall, wa& now forbidden to 
see her. Letters had to be smuggled in and out 
of the prison, and she soon ceased to have any 
trustworthy news of her loved ones. Six days after 
the above letter, she wrote to Bosc : 

" My poor little one ! Where is she ? Tell me, I 
beg of you. Give me some details that I may picture 
her to myself in her new surroundings." 

It was too late. In less than a week after this 
letter she was in the Conciergerie. 

After the death of M. and Madame Roland, 
Eudora was taken in charge by Bosc, who, in 1795, 
published the first edition of Madame Roland's Me- 



308 MADAME BOLAND 

moirs, to help in her support. Legend has it that 
Bosc even wanted to marry the child. Later a mar- 
riage was arranged for her with a brother of Cham- 
pagneux of Lyons, the old friend of the Rolands. 

After the Revolution, Madame Champagneux re- 
covered her father's property, and Le Clos, the family 
estate, near Villefranche, came into her possession. 
This property is still in the family, being owned 
by one of Madame Champagneux's granddaughters, 
Madame Cecile Marillier of Paris. 

All of the papers of Madame Roland, which had 
been confided tp Bosc, were given by him to Eudora, 
and she seems to have experienced a certain resent- 
ment towards her mother when she found that she 
had told posterity so frankly that her only child 
lacked in depth of sentiment and keenness of intel- 
lect. This feeling only intensified her admiration 
for her father, and when Lamartine's History of the 
Grirondins appeared, she was deeply indignant at the 
way in which he belittled M. Roland in order to 
make the figure of Madame Roland more brilliant. 
It was with the hope that Lamartine's influence could 
be counteracted, that she urged a friend, a grand- 
nephew of Bosc, M. P. Faug£re by name, to take 
possession of all the family papers, and prepare a 
work which would justify the memory of Roland. 
M. Faugere was already busy with a new edition 
qf the Memoirs, but he promised Madame Cham- 
pagneux to do the work on M. Roland as soon as 
that was finished. The Memoirs he completed, and 



THOSE LEFT BEHIND 309 

his edition is by far the best published ; but though 
he began the study of Roland he died before finish- 
ing it. The family papers remained in the possession 
of Madame Faug£re, who, in 1888, turned over the 
most important of them to the BibliothSque Nationale. 
Madame Champagneux lived to be nearly seventy- 
seven years old, dying in Paris July 19, 1858. The 
last years of her life were clouded by the death of 
one of her daughters, a loss from which she is said 
never fully to have recovered. 

Of the three left behind, the fate of Buzot was 
saddest. At the moment that he escaped to Evreux, 
the northwest departments felt that the Convention 
had been coerced into the decree against the Gironde 
and there was a general revolt against the tyranny 
of Paris. Buzot and his friends who had escaped 
decided, on sounding this feeling, that it was suffi- 
ciently wide-spread and profound to justify them in 
undertaking a campaign against the Convention and 
in favor of federalism. Buzot began by speaking in 
the cathedral at Evreux and here he was joined by 
Petion, Barbaroux, and Louvet. The agitators were 
not long unmolested. The Convention turned its 
fiercest anathemas against the " traitors," as it called 
them, and the Revolutionary authorities of the north- 
west were ordered to crush them. At first they fled 
into Brittany, evidently hoping to find a vessel there 
for America, but disappointed in this, they made their 
way to Gascogne, where one of their number had 
friends. 



310 MADAME BOLANB 

While Buzot was escaping, the patriotic saviours 
of their country were exhausting themselves in fan- 
tastic efforts to show their hatred of his " treason." 
His house was demolished amid civic rejoicings. 
His effigy was burned and riddled with bullets in the 
process. On the walls near his residence could be 
still read a few years ago an inscription written in 
the excitement. 

" Buzot le scelerat trakit la liberte ; 
Pour ce crime infame, il sera decapite." 

This effectual and dignified way of dealing with a 
political opponent reached its climax on December 
30, 1793, when Evreux held a fete of rejoicing 
over the recapture of Toulon. The cathedral in 
which, six months before, Buzot had spoken had 
become a "temple of reason and philosophy." On 
the altars were the busts of Marat, Lepelletier, and 
Brutus, where once were the forms of Virgin and 
Child and peaceable saint. The latter had been 
transferred to the Place de la Federation, where, 
together with effigies of Buzot and other local 
celebrities who had refused to believe and vote as 
the authorities desired, they were burned. 

In the mean time Buzot had escaped to Saint 
Emilion, where, for some three months, he and his 
friends were concealed. They busied themselves, 
when their places of hiding permitted it, with writ- 
ing their memoirs. Buzot discussed his political 
career and made a violent, often vindictive, attack 



THOSE LEFT BEHIND 311 

on his opponents. There is no direct avowal, in his 
work, of his love for Madame Roland, but one feels 
throughout the despairing, passionate passages the 
struggling of a great emotion, stifled, but not dead. 
It is said that when the news of Madame Roland's 
death reached Buzot, his friends thought he had gone 
mad, and it was many days before the violence of 
his grief was calmed. 

At the beginning of 1794 the refugees were 
obliged to change asylums, and went to the house 
of a hair-dresser in Saint Emilion, where they stayed 
until June of that year. At that time, however, the 
Revolutionary authorities of Bordeaux decided that 
they were not doing their whole duty in saving the 
country, and began a house-to-house search through- 
out the department. Buzot, with his friends, Potion 
and Barbaroux, were forced to fly. After days of 
fatigue and fear and hunger, the end came. Bar- 
baroux, thinking he was discovered, attempted to 
shoot himself, but succeeded only in wounding him- 
self, and was captured. 

Just how death came to Buzot no one knows ; for 
when his body was found it lay beside that of Petion 
in a wheat-field, half-eaten by wolves. 

In unconscious irony the peasants have since 
called the field the champ des emigres. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 



Appel a l'iinpartiale posterite. Par la citoyenne Roland, femme 
du miuistre de l'interieur. 1795. 

(Euvres de J. M. Ph. Roland, femme de l'ex-ministre de l'inte- 
rieur. 1800. 3 vols. 

Memoires de Madame Roland, avec une notice sur sa vie. Par 
MM. Berville et Barriere. 1820. 2 vols. 

Memoires de Madame Roland. Par Ravenel. 1840. 2 vols. 

Lettres inedites de Mademoiselle Phlipon. Adressees aux 
demoiselles Cannet. Par M. Anguste Breuil. 1841. 

Meinoires particuliers de Madame Roland. Par M. Francois 
Barriere. 1855. 1 vol. 

Memoires de Madame Roland, ecrits durant sa captivite. Par 
M. P. Faugere. 1864. 2 vols. 

Memoires de Madame Roland. Par C. A. Dauban. 

Lettres de Madame Roland (Mademoiselle Phlipon) aux demoi- 
selles Cannet. Par C. A. Dauban. 1867. 2 vols. 

Etude sur Madame Roland et son temps, suivie des lettres de 
Madame Roland a Buzot. Par C. A. Dauban. 1864. 

Lettres autographes adressees a Bancal des Issarts. Publiees 
par Henriette des Issarts et precedees d'une introduction 
par Sainte-Beuve. 1836. 

Papiers de M. et Madame Roland, Nouvelles acquisitions fran- 
caises, Bibliotheque Xationale. 4 vols. In this collection 
are over 250 unpublished letters of Madame Roland, a 
large number by Roland, a voluminous academic and 
political correspondence, many communications to the 
313 



314 MADAME EOLAND 

academies, the documents for establishing the genealogy 
of the Roland family, and many other papers. 

Manuscript contributed to the Academy of Lyons by Roland. 
Now in the library of the Academy at Lyons. 

Published Eeports of the Academy of Lyons. 1785-1790. 

Lettres ecrites de Suisse, d'ltalie, de Sicile, et de Malte. Par 
M. . . . a Mademoiselle ... a Paris, en 1776, 1777 et 1778. 
1782. 6 vols. 

Dictionn aires des Manufactures des Arts et des Metiers in the 
Encyclopedic Methodique. 4 vols. By Roland. 

Madame Roland. By Mathilde Blind. 1886. 

Four Frenchwomen. By Henry Austin Dobson. 1890. 

Tableau de Paris. Par Mercier. 1783-1789. 

Le Nouveau Paris. Par Mercier. 6 vols. 1795. 

Paris tel qu'il etait avant la Revolution. Par M. Thiery. 
AnIY. 

Etat on. Tableau de la ville de Paris. Par de Jeze. 1761. 

Dictionnaire historique de la ville de Paris et de ses environs. 
Par Hurtant et Magiy. 1779. 

Tableaux des Mceurs. 1600-1880. Par Paul Lacombe. 1887. 

L'an 1789. Par Hippolyte Gautier. 1888. 

Paris en 1789. Par Albert Badeau. 1890. 

La vie privee d'autrefois. Par A. Franklin. 17 vols. 1887- 
1895. 

Memoires inedits de M me de Genlis. 1825. 10 vols. 

Memoires de M me d'Epinay. 

La femme au XVIII me Siecle. Par Edmond et Jules de Gon- 
court. 1874. 2 vols. 

L'Education des femmes par les femmes. Par Octave Greard. 

1887. 



BIBLIOGBAPHY 315 



L'Art du XYIII me Siecle. Par Edmond et Jules de Goncourt. 
1874. 2 vols. 

Causeries du Lundi. Par Sainte-Beuve. 

Etudes sur la litterature contemporaine. Par Edrnond Scherer. 

Extraifc du journal de mes voyages. 1776. 2 vols. Par 
Pahin de la Blancherie. 

Nouvelles de la Republique des lettres et des arts. 8 vols. 
1779-1787. Par Pahin de la Blancherie. 

Emile — Les Confessions — La Nouvelle Heloise — Contrat 
social. Par J. J. Rousseau. 

Histoire Parlementaire. Par Buchez et Roux. 32 vols. 

L'Esprit public au XVIII me Siecle. Par Charles Aubertin. 
1872. 

L'Esprit Revolutionnaire avant la Revolution. Par Felix Roc- 
quain. 

Les causes fmancieres de la Revolution francaise. Par Charles 
Gomel. 1893. 

De radministration Provinciale et de la reforme de l'impot. 
Par Letrosne. 1779. 

Le Paysan sous l'Ancien Regime. Par Ferdinand Brunetiere. 
Revue des Deux Mondes. Avril, 1883. 

La Vie Rurale dans l'Ancienne France. Par Albert Babeau, 

1883. 

Proces verbaux de l'assemblee provinciale de Lyon. 1787. 

Lettres de l'intendant du Lyonnais pendant 1780-1789. 

Cahiers du Tiers fitat, de la noblesse, et du clerge de Lyon aux ' 
Etats Generaux, 1789. 

Almanach Royal de France. 

Almanach National de France. 

Dr. Rigby's Letters from France in 1789. 



316 MADAME BOLAXD 

Proces Verbaux. Asserablee Xationale,. 17S9-1791. 76 vols. 

Letters written in France. H. 11 Williams. 1796. 

Histoire litteraire de la Convention Xationale. Par E. Maron. 
1860. 

L'eloquence parlenientaire pendant la Revolution francaise. 
Par F. A. Aulard. 1SS5-1S86. 2 vols. 

Catalogue d'une collection d'ouvrages historiques sur la Revolu- 
tion francaise. Par E. Gonon. 

Les Origines de la France contemporaine. Par A. Taine. 
1S7S-15S5. 3 vols. 

Considerations sur les principaux evenements de la Revolution 
francaise. Par Madame la baronne de Stael. 1843. 

Letters and Speeches of Thomas Paine during the French 
Revolution. 

Diary and Letters of Gouverneur Morris. 1888. 2 vols. 

Menioires et correspondance (de Mallet du Pan) pour servir a 
rhistoire de la Revolution francaise. 1851. 2 vols. 

Histoire de la societe francaise pendant la Revolution. Par 

Edmond et Jules de Goncourt. 1551. 

De l'autorite de Rabelais dans la revolution presente et dans la 
constitution civile du clerge. Par Pierre Louis Ginguene. 
1791. 

La demagogie en 1793 a Paris. Charles Aime Dauban. 186S. 

Souvenirs sur les deux premieres assemblees. Par E. Dumont. 

Memoires sur la Revolution. Par D. J. Garat. 1795. 

J. P. Brissot depute du departement d'Eure et Loire a ses com- 
mettans. sur la situation de la Convention Xationale. sur 
l'influence des anarchistes, et les maux qu'elle a cause's, 
sur la necessite d'aneantir cette influence pour sauver la 
Republique. 1794. 

Histoire Musee de la Republique francaise depuis l'Assemblee 
des notables jusqu'a l'empire. Avec les estampes, me- 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 317 



dailies, caricatures, portraits historiques et autographes 
remarquables du temps. Par Jean Challamel. 2 vols. 1842. 

La societe des Jacobins, Recueil de documents pour l'histoire 
du club des Jacobins de Paris. Par. F. A. Aulard. 
1889-1895. 5 vols. 

Journal d'un bourgeois de Paris pendant la Terreur. Par 
Edmond Bire. 1884. 

Legendes revolutionnaires. Par Edmond Bire. 1893. 

Memoires du comte Beugnot, ancien ministre (1783-1815). 
Publies par le comte Albert Beugnot. 1868. 2 vols. 

Englishmen in the French Revolution, 1789-1795. By John G. 
Alger. 1889. 

Glimpses of the French Revolution. By John G. Alger. 1894. 

Le culte de la Raison et le culte de l'Etre Supreme. Par F. A. 
Aulard. 1892. 

Etudes et lecons sur la Revolution francaise. Par F. A. 
Aulard. 

Dumouriez. Vie et Memoires. 1822. 4 vols. 

Memoires inedits de Petion et Memoires de Buzot et de Barba- 
roux. Par C. A. Dauban. 1866. 

Charlotte de Corday et les Girondins. Par Charles Vatel. 
1864-1872. 

Histoire de la faction de la Gironde. Par Camille Desmoulins. 

Les Girondins, leur vie privee, leur vie publique, leur proscrip- 
tion et leur mort. Joseph Guadet. 2 vols. 1861. 

Recherches historiques sur les Girondins. Par Charles Vatel. 
2 vols. 

Histoire des Girondins et des Massacres de Septembre. A. de 
Granier de Cassagnac. 1860. 2 vols. 

Protestation contre le livre intitule Histoire des Girondins et 
des Massacres de Septembre. Par Joseph Guadet. 1860. 

La Legende des Girondins. Par E. Bire. 1881. 



318 MADAME BOLASD 



Histoire des Girondins. Par A. de Lamartine. 1847. 8 vols. 

La Grande Encyclopedic. Vol. 18. Les Girondins. Par H. 
Monin. 

Les niinistres de la Republique Francaise. Roland et Madame 
Roland. Par le Baron de Girardot. 1860. 

Histoire de Lyon et des anciennes provinces du Lyonnais. Par 
Eug. Fabrier. 1816. 2 vols. 

Almanach de la ville de Lyon et des provinces du Lyonnais. 
Par Forez et Beaujolais. 1781-86. 

Histoire de Yillefranche. Par Hippolyte Laplatte. 

Bibliographie Historique de la ville de Lyon. Par Gonon. 1815. 

Histoire de Lyon. Par Ballydier. 

Histoire du commerce de 1'industrie des fabriques de Lyon. 
Par C. Beaulien. 1838. 

Histoire de la ville de Lyon pendant la Revolution. Par l'Abbe 
Guillon de Montleon. 

Les premieres annees de la Revolution a Lyon. Par Maurice 
WahL 1891. 



NEWSPAPERS 

Courrier de Lyon. 

Le Patriote Fran9ais. 

Moniteur Universel. 

Le Gardien de la Constitution. 

L'Ami du Peuple. 

Journal de la Republique Francaise. 

La Sentinelle. 

Mercure de France. 

Le Pere Duchesne. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 319 



POLITICAL PAMPHLETS 

Correspon dance du ministre de Pinterieur Roland avec le 
General Lafayette. 

Lettre au Roi. 

Lettre de Jnnius a Roland. 

Lettre a M. Roland. 

Lettres sur le rninistere de Roland. 

Rapport relatif au 20 Jnin. 

Adresse au peuple francais. 

M Marat ni Roland. Opinion d'Anarcharsis Cloots. 1792. 

Reponses au Prussien Cloots par Roland, Kersaint, Guadet, et 
Brissot. 

L'ex-ministre de Pinterieur au president de la Convention 
Nationale. 

Observations de l'ex-ministre Roland sur le rapport fait contre 
lui par le depute Brival. 

Lettres et pieces interessantes pour servir a Phistoire des 
ministres de Roland, de Servan et de Claviere. 

Conversations et correspondance de M. Champy avec M. Roland. 

A M. Roland de 'la Platiere sur sa " Lettre au Roi," 17 Juillet, 
1792. 

Almanach des Bizarreries Humaines. Par J. C. Bailleul. 1889. 



NDEX 



Abbaye, Madame Roland impris- 
oned in tbe, 261 et seq. 

Antoine, 145. 

Assembly, National, see National 
Assembly. 

Barbaroux, and the Rolands, their 
plans, 202-205, 206; his fate, 
309-311. 

Beanmarehais, his Figaro first 
given, 85 ; quoted, 121. 

Beugnot, Comte, his words con- 
cerning Madame Roland in 
prison, 296, 299. 

Buzot, Francois Nicolas Leonard, 
at the home of the Rolands, 145 ; 
Madame Roland's passion for, 
224, 225; his early career, 226, 
227; attracts Madame Roland, 
227 ; his nature, 228 ; correspond- 
ence with Madame Roland, 228, 
230 ; his wife not his equal, 227, 
230; his personal attractions, 
231, 232; his love for Madame 
Roland, 230, 234, 242-244; his 
relations toward M. Roland, 244 ; 
his struggle against the Moun- 
tain party, 247-249 ; his opinion 
of Danton and Robespierre, 247, 
249; in harmony with M. Ro- 
land, 249 ; his efforts to prove 
his patriotism, 250; could not 
approve the Terrorists, 250, 251 ; 
his relations with the Rolands 
well understood, 251 ; character- 
ized by Marat as frere tran- 
quille, 251 ; his words on the 
Republic, 255-257; flees from 



Paris to Evreux, 262, 263 ; Ma- 
dame Roland's letters to, from 
prison, 274-280; his last days 
and death, 309-311. 



Cannet, Henriette, offers to take 
Madame Roland's place in 
prison, 292. 

Cannet, Sophie, Manon Phlipon's 
friendship with, 12-15. 

Cercle Social, the, patriotic club, 
142, 143. 

Chalier, sent home to Lyons by 
Roland " with honors," 211. 

Champagneux, M., starts the Cour- 
rier de Lyon, 128; in constant 
correspondence with the Ro- 
lands, 155 ; arrested, 284. 

Champagneux, brother of above, 
husband of Eudora Roland, 98, 
308. 

Champ-de-Mars, the massacre of, 
162, 163. 

Chauveau-Lagarde, ambitious to 
defend Madame Roland in her 
trial, 299. 

Claviere, at the home of the Ro- 
lands, 145-147. 

Commune, the, 208; and M. Ro- 
land, 212, 213; vigorous action 
of, 212. 

Conciergerie, Madame Roland im- 
prisoned in the, 292, 295, 296. 

Condorcet, his pamphlet on 
"Whether a king is necessary 
to the conservation of energy," 
159. 

Constitution, the, formed by the 



321 



322 



INDEX 



Assembly and accepted by Louis 

XVI, 168, 169. 
Constitutionalist party, tbe, 174. 
Convention, National, see National 

Assembly. 
Conversation, French, character 

of, 147, 148. 
Creuze-la-Touche, shelters Eudora 

Eoland, 306. 

Dames de la Congregation de 
Notre Dame, Convent, Manon 
Phlipon at, 9 et seq.; instruction 
given at, 10. 

Danton, at the head of the insur- 
rectionary element, 205, 206, 214 ; 
Madame Roland's antipathy to, 
214-217; the only mediator be- 
tween the Gironde and the 
Mountain parties, 215; his bru- 
tality, 217, 222; "the one man 
who could support the Gironde, 
save the King and his country," 
223; his words concerning Ma- 
dame Roland, 245; Buzot's opin- 
ion of, 247, 249. 

Desmoulins, Camille, his inability 
to understand the general ad- 
miration for Madame Roland, 
151, 152, 206. 

Dumas, Mathieu, his words on the 
publication of Roland's letter to 
the King, 198. 

Dumont, his comment on Madame 
Roland's persuading her hus- 
band to publish his letter to the 
King, 198. 

Dumouriez, General, Madame Ro- 
land's distrust of, 181, 182; 
Roland made overtures to, 223. 

Encyclopedie methodique, M. Ro- 
land's contributions to, 76, 77. 

Faugere, M. P., and the Roland 

Memoirs, 308, 309. 
Feuillants, the, 176, 189, 201. 
Financial errors of the French 

government, 113-117, 121, 122. 



France, financial errors of the 
government, 113-117, 121, 122. 

Garaud, 146. 

Garran, 145. 

Genlis, Madame de, her lack of 
knowledge at twelve, 10. 

Gironde, the party of the, charac- 
ter and principles of, 171-176; 
Madame de StaeTs words con- 
cerning, 173 ; its attitude toward 
the Mountain and constitutional- 
ist parties, 174-176 ; the Girondin 
ministry, 178 ; join the Jacobins, 
205 ; struggle between the Moun- 
tain party and, 255; expulsion 
and trial of twenty-two mem- 
bers of, 259; twenty-one exe- 
cuted, 290. 

Gluck, his Danaides first given, 
85. 

Grandpre, his assistance to Madame 
Roland in prison, 269, 270. 

Gregoire, 146. 

Greuze, Manon Phlipon's visit to, 
57, 58. 

Guillon de Montleon, Abbe, his 
words concerning M. Roland, 
91; his words concerning Ma- 
dame Roland, 150, 151. 

Hannaches, Mademoiselle d', and 

Manon Phlipon, 19, 20. 
Heinsius, his portrait of Madame 

Roland, 152, 153. 

Insurrection, party of the, 205-207. 

Jacobins, too conservative for the 
Rolands, 143 ; the Girondins join, 
205. 

Lafayette, Marquis de, 157, 200. 
Lanthenas, and the Rolands, 127, 

128, 216, 233, 237. 
Le Clos, the country home of M. 

and Madame Roland, 94 et seq. ; 



INDEX 



323 



amusements at, 101 : Madame 
Roland's life at, 99-111. 

Louis Noailles, 145. 

Louise, Madame, sister of Louis 
XVI., did not know her alpha- 
bet at twelve, 10. 

Louis XVI. , appears with Marie 
Antoinette in the National As- 
sembly, 129, 130 ; his flight and 
return, 150-159; "worse than a 
stick in a wheel," 158 ; efforts 
to secure a trial of, 161, 162; 
accepts the constitution, 168; 
names a cabinet to suit the Gi- 
rondins, 178 ; Madame Roland 
doubts the good faith of, 183; 
hesitates to sign measure to 
raise army for protection of 
Paris against foreign attack, 
189 ; Roland's letter to, concern- 
ing the public perils, 190-199; 
his words to Roland concerning 
the letter, 197 ; the red cap placed 
on his head in the riot of the 20th 
of June, 200. 

Lyons, M. and Madame Roland at, 
91-93; M. Roland's manuscripts 
in the archives of the Academy 
of, 92, 93; disorders in, 134-137; 
rumors of a Prussian and Aus- 
trian invasion, 137 ; the Rolands 
detested in, 138; its devotion to 
the aristocracy, 165. 

Mandat, murdered, 208. 

Marat, joins the Commune, 212; 
his character, 218; and M. Ro- 
land, 218, 219; attacks M. and 
Madame Roland in his journal, 
222, 223 ; his words concerning 
Buzot, 251 ; his characterization 
of Madame Roland, 252. 

Marie Antoinette, her appearance 
in the National Assembly, 129, 
130; her flight, 156. 

Mesmer-study, 85. 

Mirabeau, Madame Roland's words 
concerning, 290. 

Morris, Gouverneur, quoted, 163; 



his words concerning the attitude 
of affairs in Paris, 177. 
Mountain party, the, its character, 
174-176; M. Roland's struggle 
against, 247 ; Buzot's struggle 
against, 247-249 ; struggle of the 
Gironde party with, 255. 

National Assembly, the, 124 ; King 
and Marie Antoinette appear in, 
129, 130; Madame Roland's dis- 
satisfaction with, 129-131, 138- 
142 ; M. Roland a deputy to, 138 ; 
measure to raise army to protect 
Paris against attack of foreign- 
ers, voted by, 189 ; Roland's let- 
ter to the King presented to 
the, 197-199; Madame Roland 
appears before the Convention, 
253; struggle in, between the 
Mountain and Gironde parties, 
255 ; expulsion and trial of mem- 
bers of the Gironde, 259; Madame 
Roland's letter to, from prison, 
269, 270. 

Noailles, Louis, 145. 

Notre Dame des Marais, the Gothic 
church at Villefranche, 88. 

Nouvelle Helo'ise, Rousseau's, its 
influence on Manon Phlipon, 32- 
35. 

Paine, Thomas, at the home of the 
Rolands, 146 ; forms a republican 
society in Paris, 159. 

Paris, gold and silver smiths in the 
western end of, 1 ; measure to 
guard the city against attack 
of foreigners, 188 et seq., 201; 
life in, during the Revolution, 
293, 294. 

Petion, at the home of the Rolands, 
145 ; a Girondin, 171 ; counsels 

' calm, 205, 208 ; his fate, 309-311. 

Phlipon, Madame, mother of Ma- 
non Phlipon, her character, 3; 
her control over her daughter, 
5 ; her death, 31. 

Phlipon, Marie-Jeanne, called Ma- 



324 



INDEX 



non, afterwards Madame Roland 
her parents, 2-6 ; her birth, 5 
her character as a child, 5, 6 
early reading and education, 6 
et seq. ; effect of Plutarch's 
Lives on, 7, 8 : her religions zeal, 
9; enters the convent, Dames de 
la Congregation de Notre Dame, 
9, 10; her life and work there, 
10-14 ; her friendship with Sophie 
Cannet, 12-15 : her piety, 11, 12 : 
her letters to Sophie Cannet, 14, 
15 : her secret resolve to return 
to convent life, 15 : her dislike 
for the vanities of life, 16, 17, 20. 
21 : her love of nature, 17; Men- 
tion her favorite spot, 17; her 
visit to Madame de Boisrnorel, 
18, 19 ; her early contempt for 
the social conditions, 19-21 : a sec- 
retary to Mademoiselle d'Han- 
naches. 20: makes an eight-day 
visit to Versailles, 21 : her de- 
scription of her impressions 
there, 22; her attitude toward 
the King and government at 
twenty years of age, 22-24; pre- 
fers a republic, 22. 23 ; her read- 
ing after leaving the convent, 
24-26: her cahiers, 26; deeply 
interested in philosophy, 26, 27 ; 
studies Christian dogma severely 
and rationally, 27, 28 ; her mental 
and spiritual condition. 28-30; 
the influence of Rousseau's Xou- 
velle He'lolse on, 31-35 ; her words 
concerning Rousseau and his 
works, 34, 35; her notions of a 
future husband, 35-38; appli- 
cants for her hand, 35, 36: her 
love affair with Pahin de la 
Blancherie, 38-44 ; her Loisi?*s. 
40, 58; her interest in Sainte- 
Lettre. 44. 45: refuses M. de 
SeVelinges. 46. 47: her interest 
in Roland de la Platiere, 45, 52, 
53 ; her interest in M. Pittet. 54 : 
the dulness of her life, 54; her 
visit to Rousseau. 55. 56; her 



visit to Greuze, 57, 58 : her rela- 
tions with her father, 58, 59 ; 
conceals from Sophie Cannet her 
feeling for Roland de la Platiere, 
60 : Platonic arrangement with 
Roland, 61 : correspondence be- 
tween Roland and, 61-69; diffi- 
culty with her father in her 
betrothal to M. Roland, 67-69; 
leaves her father, and retires 
to the convent, 69, 70 : marries 
Roland. 71 : her account in her 
Memoirs of the courtship and 
marriage, 71, 72. See Roland, 
Madame. 
Phlipon, Pierre Gatien, his engrav- 
ing shop, 2, 3; his character, 

3, 4: his home life and family, 

4, 5 : displeased with Pahin de 
la Blancherie, 40 : his relations 
toward his daughter, 58. 59 ; 
grows dissipated. 68 : his atti- 
tude toward M. Roland, 68, 69: 
death, 140. 

Pittet, M., Manon Phlipon's inter- 
est in, 54. 

Plutarch's Lives, effect of, on Ma- 
non Phlipon, 7, 8. 

Rebecqui, 202. 

Republic, excitement at the name 
of, 158-160 ; not welcomed by the 
people, 161. 

P c pubU'-cn, tbe, journal, 159, 160. 

Robespierre, at home of the Ro- 
lands, 145 ; his words concerning 
a Republic, 160, 161 ; criminal 
accuser, 171 : in open rupture 
with the Girondins, 189; joins 
the Commune, 212, 221, 222: 
Buzot's opinion of. 247, 249. 

Revolution, the French, the Ro- 
lands welcomed, 112 et seq. ; 
preliminary outbreaks of, 117- 
120: the word revolution long 
used in private, 118; call for 
States-General in 1788, 123: the 
fall of the Bastille, 124; disorders 
in Lyons. 134-137 ; rumors of a 



INDEX 



325 



Prussian and Russian invasion, 
137; the Revolutionary temper, 
149; the flight and return of 
the king, 156-159; the massacre 
of the Champ-de-Mars, 162, 163 ; 
disorders and riots everywhere, 
183, 184; the riot of the 20th of 
June, 199, 200 ; the insurrection- 
ary element organizing, 206, 207 ; 
the Commune, 208, 212, 213 ; the 
September massacres, 219-222; 
the execution of the twenty-one 
Girondins, 290 ; the daily life of 
Parisians during, 293, 294. 

Roland, Eudora, daughter of Ma- 
dame Roland, born, 75 ; her 
husband Champagneux receives 
"conscience money," 98; her 
education by her mother, 102; 
her life, 305-309; her resentment 
toward her mother and admira- 
tion for her father, 308. 

Roland, the chanoine, brother of 
M. Roland, 89, 140. 

Roland, Madame, first year of 
married life, 73-75 ; at Amiens, 
75; her child, 75; helping her 
husband on the Encyclopedic, 
77; absorbed in her domestic 
life, 78; her efforts in Paris to 
secure a title for her husband, 
79-84; secures for her husband 
the position of inspector at 
Lyons, 84; ber correspondence 
with her husband while in Paris, 
85, 86 ; interest in Mesmerism, 
85; returns to Amiens, 85, 86; 
trip to England, 86 ; life at Ville- 
franche-sur-Saone, 87 et seq. ; 
her relations toward M. Roland's 
mother and brother, 89, 90; in 
correspondence with Bosc, 90; 
not pleased with and not popu- 
lar at Villefranche, 90, 91; not 
pleased with Lyons, 92 ; home 
life at Le Clos, 94, 99-111 ; edu- 
cation of her daughter, 102 ; her 
letters on Rousseau's Julie and 
the education of children, 103- 



108 ; her devotion to her hus- 
band unabated during life at 
Le Clos, 108, 109; her trip to 
Switzerland, 109, 110; a sympa- 
thetic witness of preliminary 
outbreaks of the Revolution, 112, 
117 ct seq. ; cramped for money 
after marriage, 120; her idea of 
" complete regeneration" of so- 
cial affairs, 124, 125 ; her political 
convictions and plan of action, 
125-133 ; her influence over her 
husband and friends, 126-129; 
her words after the fall of the 
Bastille, 129; concerning the 
King's and Marie Antoinette's 
appearance in the National As- 
sembly, 129, 130 ; displeased with 
the constitution, 130; her firm- 
ness, 132; detested in Lyons, 
138 ; her dissatisfaction with the 
National Assembly, 129-131, 138- 
142; goes up to Paris, 138, 140; 
her irritation at the aristocrats, 
142 ; gives up going to theatres, 
and goes to political clubs, 142, 
143 ; her words concerning Jaco- 
bins, 143 ; her esteem for Brissot, 
145 ; her comments on the discus- 
sions of patriots that gathered at 
her house, 146-148 ; her words on 
the necessity of uniting efforts, 

148, 149; her supremacy over 
group of patriots around her, 

149, 150; her inflexibility, 150; 
her personal charms, 150-152; 
the portraits of, 152-154 ; her joy 
at the flight of the King, 156, 
157 ; her words on the return of 
the King, 158 ; endeavors to se- 
cure a trial of the King, 161, 162 ; 
she loses heart, and returns from 
Paris to Villefranche, 164; her 
disgust with Lyons, 165 ; her dis- 
appointment in her child, 166; 
decides to return to Paris, 166, 
167 ; her ideal of government un- 
satisfied, 169, 170; her supreme 
confidence in herself, 170; con- 



326 



INDEX 



sidered herself better than her 
husband, 170 ; her feeling against 
the old regime, 170; her attitude 
on her return to Paris, 176, 177; 
her life and habits after her hus- 
band entered the Ministry of the 
Interior, 179, 180; her influence 
in choosing persons for positions 
in the department, 180, 181 ; her 
mistrust of General Duniouriez 
and others, 181, 182 ; doubts the 
good faith of the King, 183 ; her 
measures to meet perils threat- 
ening Paris, 188 et seq. ; she 
writes letter to the King con- 
cerning the perils, 190; per- 
suades her husband to publish 
the letter to the King, 197, 198 ; 
meets Barbaroux, 201, 202; her 
plan carried, 210; her antipathy 
to Danton, 214-217 ; her words 
concerning Eobespierre, Marat, 
and Danton, 221, 222; her dis- 
gust at the brutal turn of affairs 
in the Revolution, 222 ; attacked 
by Marat, 222, 223; would not 
compromise with the insurrec- 
tionary force, 223, 225; her pas- 
sion for Buzot, 224, 225, 227-244 ; 
her first interest in Buzot, 227, 
228 ; her correspondence with 
Buzot, 228-230; her disillusion- 
ment in regard to the Revo- 
lution, 230, 231; her hope in 
Buzot, 231 ; attracted by Buzot's 
personal charms, 231, 232; the 
waning of her affection for her 
husband and of her friendship 
with Bosc, Lanthenas, and Ban- 
ca, 233 ; her notions of duty and 
devotion, 234 ; her relations with 
various friends during her life, 
235-241 ; influenced by the " new 
ideas " of love and marriage, she 
accepts the love of Buzot, 242, 
243 ; she tells her husband of her 
love for Buzot, 243 ; her relations 
to her husband thereafter, 244 ; 
Danton's words concerning, 245 ; 



holds her place in the struggle, 
251 : abused by Marat, 252 ; her 
position compared with that of 
Marie Antoinette, 252; appears 
before the Convention, 253 ; dan- 
ger to her life, 253, 254 ; attempts 
to leave Paris, but falls ill, 258; 
her vain endeavor to reach the 
Convention to plead her hus- 
band's cause, 259-261 ; put under 
arrest, 261, 262 ; her imprison- 
ment in the Abbaye and Sainte 
Pelagie, 264, 265; her fortitude 
in prison, 266, 267 ; made a prom- 
inent actor in the public tragedy 
by her imprisonment, 267, 268; 
her letters from prison to the 
Convention and to the minis- 
ters, 269, 270; her conversation 
with a committee visiting her 
prison, 270, 271; defending her- 
self against accusations and 
calumnies, 271-273; her "Last 
Thoughts," 273, 284; doubt as to 
the object of her passion alluded 
to in her last letters, 274; her 
letters to Buzot from prison, 274- 
280; would ultimately have left 
Roland for Buzot, 280; her life 
and occupations in prison, 280- 
283 ; her Historical Notes written 
at the Abbaye prison, 283, 284; 
her Memoirs and other writings, 
284-289; rapidity and ease with 
which she wrote, 285 ; Rousseau's 
Confessions the model of her 
Memoirs, 287, 288; her anguish 
and despair, 289, 290 ; her words 
concerning Mirabeau, 290; she 
resolves to kill herself, 291 ; 
conveyed to the Conciergerie, 
292 ; refuses assistance from her 
friends, 292; had hoped, during 
her imprisonment, for a popular 
uprising, 292, 293 ; her life in the 
Conciergerie, 295, 296; her sec- 
ond examination, 296-298; her 
defence, 298 ; her trial, 299, 300 ; 
sentenced to death, 301 ; her 



INDEX 



327 



words to Chauveau-Lagarde, re- 
fusing his assistance as counsel, 
299; her trip to the guillotine, 
and death, 301, 302. See Phli- 
pon, Marie-Jeanne. 
Roland de la Plaftere, M., 45; his 
position and career, 47-51; his 
character and disposition, 51, 52 ; 
first acquaintance with Manon 
Phlipon, 53 ; professes love for 
Manon Phlipon, 60; Platonic ar- 
rangement with Manon, 61 ; cor- 
respondence between Manon and, 
61-69 ; annoyances and obstacles 
.in his love affair with Manon, 
67-70; marries Manon, 71; the 
first year after his marriage, 73, 
74 ; his contribution to the Ency- 
clopedie mtthodique, 76, 77 ; am- 
bitious to obtain a title, 78, 79; 
the general prejudice against, 
81, 82 ; his wife obtains for him 
the position of inspector of com- 
merce at Lyons, 84; his letters 
to his wife while she was in 
Paris, 85, 86; trip to England, 
86; his life at Villefranche-sur- 
Saone, 87 et seq. ; his mother and 
brother, 88-90; disliked in the 
Academy of Villefranche, 91 ; 
the Abbe Guillon's words con- 
cerning, 91; his manuscripts in 
the archives of the Academy of 
Lyons, 92, 93; home life at Le 
Clos, 94 et seq. ; sympathized 
with preliminary outbreaks of 
the Revolution, 112 et seq. ; ap- 
preciated the financial errors of 
the French government, 113-116 ; 
labors against the abuses of the 
realm, 120; poverty after mar- 
riage, 120; his wife's influence 
over, 126, 127 ; becomes em- 
broiled in Lyons, 134-138; de- 
tested in Lyons, 138; goes to 
Paris as deputy to the National 
Assembly, 138 ; his words con- 
cerning Jacobins, 143; hard at 
work in Paris, 143, 144; his 



zealous spirit, 144 ; gathering of 
patriots at home of, 145-147; 
pronounces the King "worse 
than a stick in a wheel," 158; 
his pamphlet on the "Advan- 
tages of the flight of the king, 
etc.," 159; his words on the riot 
in the Champ-de-Mars, 162, 163 ; 
appointed to head of Department 
of Interior on Girondin ministry, 
177-179 ; pictured by the Mercure 
as one of the principal agitators 
of Lyons, 178 ; his life and duties 
as minister, 179, 180; his for- 
mulas in reply to requests of 
departments that he suppress 
disorders, 185-187; his conduct 
exasperating, 188 ; his letter to 
the King concerning the perils 
threatening Paris, 190-196; dis- 
charged from the ministry, 197 ; 
presents his letter to the Assem- 
bly, 197-199; meets and plans 
with Barbaroux, 201-205 ; every- 
where upheld the Jacobin party, 
211; his great energy, 212; hin- 
dered in activity by the Com- 
mune, 212-214 ; at cross-purposes 
with Danton, 217; antagonized 
Marat, 218, 219 ; protests against 
the September massacres, 219- 
221 ; orders Santerre to quell dis- 
order, 221 ; attacked by Marat, 
2?2 ; makes overtures to Dumou- 
riez, 223; Madame Roland in- 
forms him of her love for Buzot, 
243; resigns from the ministry, 
245; withdraws his resignation, 
246; his struggle against the 
Mountain party, 247 ; his retire- 
ment, 254, 255 ; neglected by the 
Convention, 254, 255, 258; ar- 
rested, 259 ; in concealment, 276 ; 
his last days and death, 303-305. 
Rousseau, Jean Jacques, the 
prophet of the sentimental gen- 
eration, 32; his Nouvelle He- 
lo'ise and its influence on Manon 
Phlipon, 32-35; his Emile, 33, 



328 



INDEX 



34; Manon Phlipon's visit to, 
55, 56 ; his Social Contract, 125 ; 
his Confessions the model of 
Madame Koland's Memoirs, 287, 
288. 

Sainte-Lettre, M. de, and Manon 
Phlipon, 44, 45. 

Sainte Pelagie, the prison of, 281, 
282. 

Sanson, the headsman, and Ma- 
dame Roland, 302. 

Santerre, 206, 221. 

Servan, in the ministry with Ro- 
land, 188, 189; discharged from 
the ministry, 197. 

Sevelinges, M. de, Manon Phlipon 
declines hand of, 46, 47. 



Stael, Madame de, her words con- 
cerning Girondins, 173, 174. 

Taxes, heavy previous to the Revo- 
lution, 113-116, 121, 122. 

Tissot, his words concerning Ma- 
dame Roland, 151. 

Vergniaud, 201. 

Villefranche-sur-Saone, 87 et seq. ; 
the Church Notre-Dame des Ma- 
rais, at, 88 ; disorders in the dis- 
trict of, 184. 

Volfius, 145. 

Williams, Miss, Bancal's love for, 
233, 241. 



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